Til Death Do Us Part
by Liz1986
Summary: [RENT] MimiRoger, AngelCollins The four of them have AIDS. Two are close to death. This story focuses on pre and post death with our faveourite bohemians... the life of them, and death... will Roger be able to finally say what he feels to Mimi? And Colli
1. Chapter 1

'**Til Death Do Us Part**

**Chapter 1: Near Death...**

**_SUMMARY_:Rent story. Mimi/Roger; Angel/Collins. All four of them have AIDS, although Mimi and Angel are both close to death. This story is about how all four of them deal with the impending and devastating losses, and also carries over into the next life. This story details the existence of all four of them pre and post death...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own, or pretend to own, any of the characters from Rent, they belong to Jonathan Larson's estate. **

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Roger was blindsided by tears as he raced down the warm, dark streets of New York City. Faster, faster… he had to get to her before it was too late and he was cutting it very close to time. Mimi Marquez had disappeared early that week and had yet to be seen since. All of them had searched for her and the police had been called, although there was very little that they were willing to do – the cops weren't willing to sacrifice their time and resources to search for a homeless, poor junkie. Taxpayers always had to come first, right? Things had been going a lot worse for her recently… the virus was really starting to take hold; every time she was with Roger, they couldn't do anything. She'd be too tired, or too weak, or coughing, or feverish… it was only a matter of time now before she passed, but Roger wasn't willing to even contemplate her impending death, let alone admit it to himself or others. And the pain was obvious… it tore through his heart like a thousand daggers shredding him to pieces and tears stained his face; his eyes were darkened so much they were almost black. His heart was pounding in his chest so fast it was like it was about to burst through his chest and explode. Even time itself seemed to be against him – he couldn't seem to get to her fast enough. Yet the world seems to be spinning so fast that he was nauseous. Without his Mimi, life itself wouldn't be worth living… he had lost one girlfriend, April, to suicide after she discovered that she and him were both HIV positive, and so to lose the love of his life now would be unbearable… all the emotional progress he had made since he met her would be meaningless. And Mark Cohen, his best friend, was scared that Roger would try to commit suicide if – or when – Mimi finally passed away.

His feet pounded the pavement in rapid succession – he knew where she'd be, but the question was – could he save her in time? But what could he save her from? Fate? Her destiny? Mimi was going to die, soon, and there was nothing he could do about it. Sweat soaked his face, and his chest began to hurt from the pace his heart was beating at… no one – not even April – had touched his life; had made him feel like he was when he was with Mimi. He loved her with every breath she gave, every touch she made, every smile and every time her eyes glistened and sparkled with life; the life that was slowly fading from her body.

"Not now…" he muttered harshly to himself as he rounded the corner and crossed the street, almost getting hit by a car, in which the driver had slammed on the breaks and as now cussing explicitly in Roger's direction. But the struggling artist didn't flinch, or even really notice anything around him. There was just one name, one face, one person that held his mind in focus – the Latin beauty, the junkie… nineteen year old Mimi Marquez.

"Oh God…" he sobbed, still running towards the park. "God… please don't take her, please."

Inside, he was screaming. Every second he was apart from his lover, Roger could feel the light growing dimmer – the light that was drawing him to her, the light that Mimi exuberated all the time. She gave new meaning to the term 'light of his life'. Because, to Roger, she was the light. She was his life. She was Roger's reason for his very existence and why he didn't stray into becoming a junkie again. Earlier that day he had been at the Life Café with another one of his close friends, Tom Collins, a former college professor at MIT, who had been expelled because of his wild, anarchist theories. Collins, also HIV positive, was really the stability in the entire group – he kept things into perspective. I guess, because of his educative background, he was the backbone of the group who kept things from disintegrating into even more madness. He was also going through some very painful times, as _his_ lover, Angel Dumott Schunard, a flamboyant HIV positive drag queen, was also beginning to seriously suffer from AIDS complications. He got colds and the flu a lot more now, and was recently admitted to the local hospital for a severe case of pneumonia, but recovered after a week and was subsequently released. Angel was also on death's doorstep. He and Collins were so much in love, that he was floating on air… never before had he or Collins been so involved with anyone. To Collins, Angel was the entire world; the entire universe and more… out of the entire group, their relationship was the most true, the most pure. There was more love between the professor and the street-drumming drag queen, and more purity, than any others… they understood each other and cherished every moment they had together. Every kiss, every embrace, every time they made love, every time they connected to each other physically and emotionally…

So he and Roger were pretty much in the same boat and they had each other to lean on. Mark, Maureen, Joanne, and even Benny, only could watch helplessly as the four lives before them were slowly being destroyed; ravaged by a disease that was unstoppable and merciless… a product of their society; their lifestyle.

"_It'll happen, Rog…"_ Collins had told him earlier that day, as tears burned his eyes as well – so much so that they were blinding him. The thought of having to face Angel's death soon was killing him – a poison seeping into his veins and invading his mind so viciously, that he was having trouble breathing.

**FLASHBACK**

"_I know," the musician sadly replied, absentmindedly tuning his guitar. At the same time, Collins was lying on the sofa and flipping through a philosophically-inspired magazine. _

"_Just why her…?"_

"_Why any of us?" Collins retorted. "It doesn't matter who dies first, Rog. It's those left behind that are left to try find answers to questions that bear no sense of direction."_

"_Like you and me?"_

"_No. Like Mark, Maureen, and Joanne. Hell, even Benny would be wondering why…"_

"_Sure," Roger scoffed, bitterly. "I doubt he'd even notice if any of us got hit by a bus outside his apartment window."_

_Collins shrugged nonchalantly, and glanced over at his equally depressed friend and studied his expression and body language. Roger was in danger of coiling up in a recluse once again… it had taken them so long to pry him out of the apartment following April's death. It had taken six months. Both of them had cried all their tears and now were just depressed. Angel was in the other room, sleeping comfortably after having calmed down after a severe coughing fit. Collins had stayed with him the entire time, just holding him, while Roger watched miserably from the doorway… slightly envious of the closeness and the purity of their relationship. Mimi and him had been having more arguments and problems lately, with it always ending up with make up sex and just having a few hours of peace before the next argument began. But at that moment, Mimi was no where to be found…_

"_I love her, man." Roger commented, looking up from what he was doing and stared straight ahead. He then looked over at Collins, who's eyes met his own. Despite his own grief (although neither Mimi and Angel were dead at that time), all he could do was smile reassuringly and sat up. He moved over to sit next to his friend on the table and put his arm around his shoulders, affectionately._

"_No matter what… we'll be okay."_

_Roger placed his guitar next to him and sighed. "You say that now, Tom."_

"_I mean it."_

"_Sure. Why?"_

"_Because," Collins choked up. "Because I have to. We all have to. What will happen to the others when we die, Roger?"_

"_You're the philosophy guru, you tell me."_

"_I don't know," Collins told him, honestly. "Philosophy tries to answer questions that sometimes can't – or shouldn't – be answered. I study the art of it; I don't pretend to know it all. Any philosopher who does cannot be accredited with being a teacher of it. It's irresponsible. I've been taught to be skeptical of life after death, to question it, but never to dismiss it, as science does. Philosophy is the balance of science and art… and the only response I can give you with any credibility is… I don't know. What do you want me to say, man?" the vagabond anarchist spoke, knowing that he, himself, did not and could not fit into the mould that renowned philosophers such as Immanuel Kant and Aristotle had carved out many centuries before._

_Roger listened to his words, knowing that – despite everything, and Collins' obvious resistance to believe his own words – that his friend was actually right._

**END FLASHBACK**

Images of Mimi lying dead in a gutter or on a park bench resonated through his fragile mind and the panic that radiated in his body escaped him through harsh sobs that choked his throat and restricted his breathing to deep gasps. Nothing mattered anymore – it was all just a blur of colours and incoherent, shallow sounds that seemed to mock him and laugh at his erratic behavior. He dodged in and out of the pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk and jumped the railing to the park. About fifteen minutes earlier, he had received a phone call from Mimi. Being familiar with New York and Central Park, he thought he recognised the area from the background noise, in conjunction with Roger's knowledge of Mimi's habits… he knew where she'd be. On the phone, Mimi had been coughing and yelling; acting very erratic – like she was hysterical. Then, it sounded like she was choking, and then the phone line went dead, with not even a dial tone.

"Mimi…" he sobbed running along the path towards the area where he knew she'd be, fearing the worst but hoping for the best.

"Mimi, don't leave me… please baby."

It wasn't long before his worst fears were confirmed – as he ran up towards the centre of the park, he stopped when out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure lying against a wall, near a pay phone. It was Mimi. Apparently she had collapsed – as she had fallen, she had ripped the phone from its hook, which explained why there was not even a dial tone. Roger's eyes widened with horror as the image impacted the nerve cells in the back of his eyes and transmitted to his brain… the message was quickly interpreted, but again, time seemed to slow. There was no light surrounding her; no life radiating from her dying body.

"MIMI!" his voice stung those around him – the pain he felt ripped through the warm air, a horrific tone signaled to those within earshot that another life was maybe about to be destroyed. He raced to her side and fell to his knees, sobbingly pulling her limp, lifeless, cold body into his arms. Roger's head rested against her chest and cried…

"No…" he cried, weakly. Although there had been witnesses to the event, not one person stopped to offer help or even call an ambulance… no one wanted to get involved with the problems of downtrodden bohemians from the wrong side of the track. Some figured that it was just another junkie passed out. Her hair was ragged and her eyes closed… she wasn't moving… breathing… she looked dead. And inside, Roger felt dead.

His hand slid across her small waste and gently rubbed her stomach, and buried his head into the side of her neck, praying to God for a miracle. Roger then pressed two fingers against her neck, and breathed a sigh of relief when he detected a small, weak pulse.

"Sir?"

He looked up and saw that a kind stranger had finally stepped forward, out of concern, to offer assistance.

"Sir, is there anything I can do?"

Roger noticed the man begin to pull what looked to be a cell phone from his pocket, while watching him and the unconscious Mimi.

"Call 911" he instructed, pleadingly. "_Please_! She can't die…" he turned his tear-filled eyes back to his girlfriend, who was dying in his arms.

"She can't die…"

_**2 HOURS LATER**_

"Where's my girl?" Maureen ran up to Roger who was sitting in the cold, hard plastic chair outside of Mimi's room (which they could only afford for three nights), with Mark at his side. He had to wait while the doctor was finishing up his examination of her. Joanne, Collins, and a very ill looking Angel were with her – Angel had to be supported by his lover as he was too weak and pale to move on his own. Panicking, Maureen grabbed Roger by his collar and pounded on his chest, crying.

"Where is she? How is she?" Maureen, ever the drama queen, tended to overdramatic things… even though she was genuinely distraught and concern, her actions caused a bit of a noise.

"I—" Roger stammered, honestly not knowing the status of Mimi's condition. "I don't know, Maureen… she… I found her in the park, she was cold, unconscious…fuck!"

Joanne wrapped her arms around Maureen's waist and held her, comfortingly. "Shh, baby," she cooed. "She'll be okay… she'll be okay…"

"She's fucking dying!" Maureen cried, resigning herself to her girlfriend's embrace. Meanwhile, Mark helped Angel sit down, and Collins pulled the weak drag queen onto his lap, and held him. Angel was coughing and was shivering. Collins wrapped his coat around his lover and kissed the back of his neck, lovingly, and then looked up at Mark, mouthing the words 'How is she?'. Mark just shrugged and shook his head. Collins had wanted Angel to stay home, but didn't want to leave him alone… and Angel didn't want to be away from Mimi at her time of need.

"Roger," Mark comforted. "Come on, man… sit down before you fall down." He guided him back over to the chairs and sat down with him. Roger sat between him and Collins. Though his vision was blurry, Angel coughed and then reached his shaking hand out to Roger and lightly patted his hand. Roger looked up at him to see the sick young man smiling down at him. It wasn't so much he was comforting him, but Angel was letting him know that no matter what happened, everything would turn out okay… Roger could see that in Angel's eyes, and that itself brought some sort of comforting feeling. Angel then leaned closer to him, his eyes red and watery. He was cold to touch.

"She'll fly again," he whispered, cryptically, yet warmly. "She'll live forever… in more ways than one."

It was then that the doctor came out of the room. Everyone except Collins and Angel stood up and watched him, expectantly. He came to a stop before them, with a somber look on his face, and Roger's heart sank faster and further than the Titanic.

"How is she?" Mark and Joanne asked at the same time. Maureen just held Roger's hand to support both him and herself.

"She's stable," the doctor replied, causing a lot of people to breathe a sigh of relief. "She hasn't been taking her medication…"

Roger's attention perked up. "What!"

"I found no trace of the AZT in her system… and her body's quick deterioration… and there was no medicine on her when she was brought in…"

"That BITCH!" Maureen yelled, crying. "How could she do that to us!"

"Maureen, shut the fuck up!" Collins venomously spat at her. Now wasn't the time to have insults and anger flying about the place, especially at the teenager whose life was hanging on by a thread.

Roger, meanwhile, was trying to keep his composure, though couldn't help but let the thought seep through his mind that the days and hours were darkening for Mimi – and there was nothing he could do to stop it. No doubt, the virus would soon begin to break him down as it was to Mimi and Angel… but the thought of not having his love by his side was too much to bear.

"Collins, go to hell!" she yelled back at him. Now was not the time for fighting among them to break out, either, but the situation was so tense that the air could be cut with a knife.

"Can I see her?" Roger asked the doctor, hopefully, ignoring the bickering of the others. The doctor nodded and stepped aside to let him in the room…

"Sure, but make it quick. She's sleeping."

Machines hummed, the heart monitor beeped in a consistent rhythm, and attached to what seemed like a million different tubes and machines, in the centre of it all on the bed, laid the small, fragile Mimi. Roger's heart froze, but couldn't resist from behind pulled into the room like he was attached to some magnetic field. When he reached her bedside, he took her hands in his and the sudden coldness of her caused him to jump back, slightly.

"Mims…" he sat down, trying to remain strong enough to get the words out. There was so much that he wanted to say to her, so many words that had remained unspoken and even feelings that remained unshared with the world. Now seemed like as good a time as any to bring out everything before his last chance died with her. He sighed and rested his head in the palm of one of his hands, and tried to think of the best way to do this. With his other hand, he let go of her's and reached up to her face and gently stroked her cheek, letting his fingers trace across her delicate, pale features; over her closed eyes, down her nose and across her lips.

"How you doing, babe?" he pathetically tried. "Oh God… Mimi… I'm so sorry. I'm sorry about everything – everything's just been so fucked up. I fucked up. I should've been there when you needed me…"

Mark and Joanne stood at the doorway and watched the emotional scene unfold… Roger had never been good at expressing his feelings, especially after April died and he clammed up. Mimi had been the only person on earth who could reach him beyond anything else, and even his music couldn't touch him the way the beautiful stranger had, who walked into his life on Christmas Eve the previous year, asking for him to light her candle. Mimi had an aura about her that no one had and an innocence about her that broke through every stereotype of a junkie. Her caring, gentle spirit held no bounds to the earth, and Angel always said that he knew she'd live just as hardcore and have just as intense fun in the next life as she did on earth. Mimi, though, was so scared of leaving everyone… and Roger had tried to get her off the stuff, but it wasn't working anymore. She figured that she was gonna die sooner rather than later, so her motivation to get clean had dried up months ago. But, despite everything, Mimi was content with her life at the moment – she and Angel were the life of the party most times, and she'd change nothing about it.

But for Mark and Joanne, seeing Roger dying through grief was torturous. At that moment, Maureen came up behind her lover and wrapped her arms around her stomach. Meanwhile, Collins was whispering comforting words to Angel, who was falling asleep in his boyfriend's arms.

Roger kissed Mimi's hand. "Come on, baby… come back to me. You can't leave now. There's so much I should've told you… I should tell you… everything about me is falling apart, and you hold me together. I… I'm… I'm disaster…"

**2 DAYS LATER**

Mimi had awoken and was still being treated in the hospital, with Roger never leaving her side. But as for the others, they came and went whenever they could. Roger was downstairs with Collins, Mark, Joanne, and Maureen, while Angel had insisted on staying with Mimi in her room so they could talk. Obviously, Collins and Roger had both been reluctant to leave them, but they had insisted to spend time alone… Angel and Mimi really understood each other for what they were and that they were different.

Angel laid down on her bed next to her and the two interlocked their fingers.

"In a creepy kinda way," Angel commented. "This really is quite peaceful."

Mimi snorted. "Sure. You and peaceful? Nice one, Ang. You can't stand things being quite for more than five minutes."

"Hey!" the vivacious, yet weak, drummer mocked being hurt. "So not true, honey! I could use this…"

"Right…" the conversation kind of trailed off as both were left in their own thoughts, though they both knew what each other was thinking. Both Angel and Mimi knew that it was now just a matter of days or even weeks for them to live and to leave their respective lovers behind, as well as their friends.

"Hey, Mims?"

"Yeah?"

"Where d'you think we're gonna go after it happens?"

Mimi frowned. "What?"

Angel shrugged and turned on his side to face her. "I dunno, just wondering. I mean, you're a junkie, and I'm a gay drag queen that kills puppies—"

"One puppy, darlin'. And she deserved it."

"You know what I mean," Angel playfully slapped her on her shoulder. "They worry about us dying, and not about where we're going once it happens, you know?"

Mimi nodded. "I know. We're so lucky to have them, Ang… I love Roger but he has so much trouble telling me he loves me, it hurts."

"He loves you, honey," Angel consoled her. "It's your job to make him see that. Let him do it in his own time."

"I could be dead by then."

"Perhaps. But you know he loves you. Do you really need to hear him say it?"

Mimi smiled, thoughtfully. "No," she conceded. "But he does."

"Exactly. Even after you die, if it takes longer than that for him to realise it, then you can't mess that up. Messing with destiny I hear can be pretty fucked up. Anyway, it's not like you won't be seeing him again."

Mimi squeezed Angel's hand. "You think we'll get to party with the Almighty?"

"Oh honey, He'd be crazy not to let us in!" Angel replied, in her diva-like attitude as always, and he turned to lay on his back. He always managed to be a source of total comfort, even if he wasn't sure if what he was saying was true or even gonna come into being.

"You think so?"

"Baby, I know so. We're good people. And we're in love. We're loved but two great, sweet, amazing, and _hot_, guys. I guess… keep trying to do good for yourself and for other people. I guess God takes care of the rest."

Mimi shifted into a more comfortable position where her head was resting on Angel's chest with their arms around each other. After talking with Angel, impending death didn't seem so scary for Mimi… that was Angel's magic with words. He was as his namesake… an angel sent from God to bring joy, comfort, love, forgiveness, awareness, happiness, and most importantly _life_ to this small group of bohemians. Mimi brought an earthiness type of love to not only Roger, but to everyone. With Angel, he was loveable but didn't bring innocence – Mimi had a dirty sort of innocence about her, like she was trying to stand up, but kept falling back into the wrong – though her heart was struggling to become strong, she was a sweet child who just had ran, for the longest time, with the wrong crowd.

Angel kissed her forehead and started up at the ceiling.

"You believe in God?" Mimi asked.

"Mmmhmm. It's hard not to. He brought me Collins… gave me more love than most people experience in a lifetime. And he brought me all of you – and I finally felt at home… at peace. God blessed me with so much, I believe I'm going to him. We all are." He hugged her closer.

"Love is blind to everything that could destroy it… love knows no boundaries… love is expressed through a child's smile, or a baby's giggle. It's shown through the offering of a hand, or a hug, or just even a simple kind word. And the best thing about it, Mims… is that no matter what, when everything else seems to go wrong, we have each other to be strong. You got love here, honey. Don't let it go. Roger will get it in time."

"Easy for you to say, Angel. You're in love with a man who isn't scared to say that he loves you… Collins is so proud of you; so in love with you… he holds you and kisses you and comforts you, without suddenly turning and running away from you – from something he so wants to, so badly." Mimi began to choke up on tears that fell from her eyes. Her heart felt like it had been ripped from her chest and shoved into a shredder… the thought of not hearing Roger tell her, show her, that he's in love with her, before she died, was excruciating. She didn't need to hear it, because she knew that he was in love and that his love for her was very deep, as was her's for him… but still… she really wanted to hear him… for him to look into her eyes, and as corny as it sounds, for him to declare his love for her.

Angel pulled her closer to him.

"Hey," he cooed. "Come on, girl. Don't you start this on me… get any tears on my top and you're dead!" he joked. Mimi managed to crack a small smile, but still felt miserable.

"Hey," Angel tried again. He placed his index finger under her chin and raised her head so he could see her eyes.

"Babe, come on. Roger loves you. And by God, he'll know it before it's too late. I promise. Okay? I've never broken my promise to anyone… especially a friend. You believe me?"

Mimi didn't reply. She wanted to, but she just couldn't bring herself to get rid of the thought that Angel was trying to make a promise that even he couldn't deliver on. Roger Davis was a stubborn, thick-headed struggling musician who was failing to see what was in front of him. She knew he could say the words to her when she was asleep, or unconscious… but for some reason, he couldn't say it while she was awake; while she was able to hear the words.  
Angel started coughing and had to sit up, so Mimi sat up with him and wrapped her arms around him. A few moments later, the coughing subsided and she handed him a tissue so he could wipe away the tears in his eyes. Despite his own health woes, Angel was willing to go all out to help his friends, and Mimi could see that… she appreciated it too. She sat aside a bit more so that Angel could get some of the blankets too, which he readily accepted.

"Ang? You okay?"

He nodded and laid back against her pillows, and pulled her into his arms again. "I'm just dandy, girl. Nothing can get me down, you know that," he flashed his charming smile at her, although he knew Mimi didn't believe him. But he didn't care. There was no way he could let Roger and Mimi be separated by death without sorting out what their lives meant to each other. And he wouldn't let himself die before it happened. The two of them just fell into silence and laid together, just thinking and enjoying each other's company. Time was running out.

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE:_That's the first chapter, I hope you like it. Let me know if I should continue it. _**


	2. Death Approaching

'**Til Death Do Us Part**

**Chapter 2: Death Approaching**

**SUMMARY: From where we left off the story, it's now two weeks later. Mimi regained her strength and was released from hospital and things seem to be settling down… she and Roger were okay, though he still hadn't told her that he loved her. He still hadn't said the words… and then, the Halloween night approaches, and comes to pass… and their lives change forever.**

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Angel lay in his lover's arms, snuggled close to him and just feeling the warmth and comfort of Collins' strong, muscular arms around his body. It was a cool night on October 19th, and he could feel his final days fast approaching him like a freight train. Collins could feel it too, and now the two were virtually inseparable from each other; neither of them willing to let each other out of their sights. The young drag queen and the wise anarchist professor were now in a stage of their relationship that very few had to, or should, experience for a long time – the final days before death… and the usually brave, upbeat Angel Dumott Schunard was now faced with his most perilous, frightening obstacle on his path to total, eternal peace… the unknown. Nothing was more frightening than not knowing what lay beyond the horizon, as the unknown would surely bring more questions than answers, and bring into light the very nature of one's own being. Angel knew he was a good, loving, caring person… but would his Creator know that? Did his Creator see beyond homosexuality and the drag queen façade? The answer most people would say, would probably be 'yes, absolutely'. After all, God sees beyond what humans can see, right into the very hearts; the very souls of His Children. And his mercy was beyond anything that any human could achieve for another person… so how, or would, He bestow that mercy on Angel? Someone who wasn't understood by society would have to stand before his Creator on his Judgment Day and receive whatever the Lord felt he deserved. And you know what? That scared Angel more than anything, who only thought of himself to be a good person, but that he could face all his sins before God and be rejected as a faithful servant… but that would all come in due time. For now, all Angel wanted to do was to forever remain in the arms of his lover. 

With his head on Collins' chest, Angel could feel the older man's heartbeat that was so constant, soft… a reassurance that kept Angel from breaking down in tears. He looked over at the clock on the wall. 2:41 Am. He could still hear talking in the next room – Roger, Mimi, and Mark were still up – none of them obviously could get much sleep. Mimi had drawn a fever and was having violent coughing fits for the past several hours, and so her friends stayed up with her. But Angel also had to get to sleep, and so he and Collins had retreated to the bedroom about two hours ago – they just lay there, talking, kissing, and cuddling. Now, Collins was sleeping and Angel stared up at the ceiling, pondering about the days to come, as well as eternity. His love for Collins would last for beyond eternity, no doubt about that, no matter which way he went… and his friends. Roger, Mimi, Mark, Maureen, and Joanne… they were his world. Who would die first? Mimi or him? Who knows… but there was one thing Angel was sure. He lived for his friends. And he would die for them too. And their love was what he'd take with him into the next world. The touch of Collins' skin, his sweet kisses… would remain with Angel forever.

"Angel?"

Collins had awoken to see the worried look on Angel's face, and knew what was wrong. There were no words that could be spoken; no kiss that could satisfy; no touch that could comfort the falling Angel to ease his pain. The fear of being apart from Angel was just as terrifying and painful as it was for Angel to imagine going into eternity without his Collins by his side.

"Angel?" Collins kissed his boyfriend's next. "Wanna talk?"

Angel looked up, his eyes meeting Collins'. "No."

"Well, I do," he replied and yawned. If Angel couldn't sleep, if he was so deeply troubled – then there was no way Collins would be able to sleep comfortably.

"Talk to me." He then began kissing the back of Angel's neck, which he knew would relax him.

"I don't—" Angel trailed off when the pleasure of Collins' advances began to overwhelm him. But he regained his composure. "Collins… I don't know. I'm fine, honey," he tried to convince them both. "Come on, you know me!"

"Yeah, I do," Collins replied. "And I know that you suck at lying. You know you can't hide anything from me." His fingers traced up Angel's stomach, over his chest, up his neck, and stopped at his lips, waiting for Angel to respond. The younger man returned the kisses; kissing Collins' fingers and hand. No one could reach Angel, emotionally, physically, or sexually, than Collins… and they both knew that.

"Angel, say what you gotta say."

"Fuck you, honey."

"Maybe later. First, we talk."

"Oh ha, ha," Angel mocked, semi-seriously. "I'm fine, Collins."

"Yes you are," Collins replied, moving his kisses along Angel's jaw line, and began to shift his position so that he was leaning over his love. His lips then met with Angel's, who responded vigorously, their tongues exploring each other's mouths with a renewed energy and passion that only they could draw from each other – Collins was especially good at it in times when Angel was feeling weak or down.

"But I know something's bothering you. I won't let you go until you tell me…"

Angel grinned. "Well then I won't talk. Who says I want you to let me go?"

"I'll never let you go."

"Good boy."

"Don't patronise me."

"Or what?"

"You'll be punished."

"Ooh I like punishment."

"That's kinky."

"I know."

Both of them burst out laughing… Angel felt a little better, and silently prayed to God, thanking Him for bringing this man, who he loved more than anything in the world, into his life. He would be eternally grateful. After a few moments, they both calmed down and just stared into each other's eyes.

"Angel, I love you. You know that, right?"

Angel smiled. "I know, honey. I love you too. We're everything that I could've ever dreamed for. And I'll wait for you…"

The last part stung Collins a bit. He knew that they would always wait for each other, but it was just a sudden reminder that they really didn't have much time left to be together. He smiled back and kissed Angel again, passionately.

"I know," he replied after reluctantly forcing his lips off of Angel's. "And I'll wait. You know I will."

"Oh no you don't," Angel got into his diva attitude. "Collins, I love you… and all I want to see, if I can take one thing with me to the next world, wherever I go, it'll be to know that you're happy. I want you to love again. I'll see you again, and we'll be together again…and I'll wait as long as it takes. But love again. Because the one thing in this world that remains the same forever, is love. To learn to love again, will be to learn to live again. And you know I'm all about living… and I want you to live."

Collins hated this. Angel was spinning the words to sound less painful, but they both knew what he was talking about. Within a matter of weeks, Angel would be dead and Collins would be left without his love… empty. And now Angel was telling him that it was possible for him Collins to love again after the one person who opened his heart to love, was gone? No. No way, he couldn't accept that.

"Angel…" he spoke, dejectedly. "I—"

"No, honey. You want to talk, so I'm talking. I want you to move on, to find someone to love again. You can."

"No, I can't!"

"Why not!"

"Because you are my only one, Angel!" Collins kissed him and held him closely, tears burning his eyes. "The moment I met you, I knew. I can't love anyone else but you, Angel—"

"Not now you can't, darlin'. But you will, soon. And I just want you to know… you totally have my blessing. And it'll come and hit you as suddenly as it did with us, and know that I want you to love again." Angel ran his hands up and down Collins' torso, sensually, and then kissed his chest and neck.

"And know that I'll be waiting for you at those pearly white gates. And you know they can't keep me out!"

Collins chuckled and they kissed deeply again. Every kiss was a reaffirmation of their love.

"But in all seriousness, Collins… Tom…" Angel's eyes met his love's again… it was so painful for him to imagine Collins loving someone else again, but all he wanted was for his lover to not lose out on love. On life.

"Don't lose love… or life… when I'm gone. I couldn't bear to watch over you; to see you lose yourself. I'll always be with you. And one day, we'll be together again for all eternity. What could be better than that?"

"Nothing…" Collins admitted.

"Exactly. And no matter what happens… if you can't let yourself love again, then you won't be free. And I wanna see you free and happy for a long time. At least… give me that, Tom… for when I do go into eternity, let me go, knowing that you'll be okay. Happy."

Angel was always amazing with words – although it hurt him to imagine Collins in the arms of someone else, there was nothing he wanted more than for his love to be happy. No more words had to be spoken and they fell back into their kisses and made love; both of them savoring every kiss and touch; every moan and sweet whispers of 'I love you'. Collins ran his finger down Angel's spine, which caused the drag queen to shiver and want him even more.

**MEANWHILE, WITH MIMI, ROGER, AND MARK**

"That fucking bitch!" Mark commented, sighing and flopping down on the sofa next to Roger, who was holding a coughing Mimi on his lap, trying to sooth her. Mark, earlier that evening, had let Maureen try out his video camera, and she somehow had managed to jam the tape in the camcorder. Now, it was busted in which he'd have to get repaired, which obviously cost money.

"Man, how many times are you gonna let Maureen wrap you around her little finger?" Roger asked, casually, stroking Mimi's hair. He was really sick and tired of the shit that went down between Mark and Maureen – she had moved on, found someone else to climb into bed with, and Mark was still hung up on her. Of course, love does silly, stupid things to people, but with him things were just getting pathetic. And now that Maureen had done his camera in, his pride and joy, maybe he would wake up and see her for what she really was. Not that he didn't like her, but Roger always resented how manipulative Maureen could be, especially to Mark and Joanne, but knew he couldn't interfere. He'd let his friends make their own fucked up mistakes, just as they did with him over the last couple of years.

"She doesn't," Mark spoke defensively. "I didn't think she'd be so reckless with it…"

Mimi burst out laughing. "Oh my gosh… Mark, you can't be serious? I can't believe you just said that. Maureen is train wreck in heels – you honestly think your camera would come out of her hands unscathed?"

"Shut up."

"Love-sick puppy you are." She retorted and absentmindedly interlaced her fingers with her boyfriend's. Things were finally peaceful between her and Roger, but she was still depressed… Roger still hadn't said the words that would set her free when she did die. She needed to take his words, his love, to the next journey with her, just as Angel did with Collins.

"I said shut up, Mimi."

"Damn… so defensive, Mark." Roger and Mimi were teasing him constantly about his remaining, lingering feelings for Maureen. Mark just ignored them, turning his back to them, and went back to trying to fix his camera. Meanwhile, Mimi and Roger began flirting and teasing each other… both knew that Angel's days were numbered, and Mimi's weren't much more than his… but somehow, at that moment, they weren't thinking about that. Of course, Mimi was afraid that if she brought it up, Roger would withdraw back into his shell and reject her once more. She slowly got to her feet.

"Mimi?" Roger watched her, carefully. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she replied. "I'll be right back."

Roger and Mark both watched her leave, puzzled… with Roger resisting the temptation to go after her, but instinctively Mark grabbed his arm to prevent him from doing anything. He didn't have to say anything to him, but just made sure that Mimi had her space.

Mimi closed the loft door and walked downstairs. Things were looking different now… very harsh, as the world was not as bright as it once was – or once seemed. She had blurry vision and a pounding headache, which just seemed to get worse with each step down she made as she moved to leave the building.

"Fuck this…" she muttered, rubbing her temple. "Man, I need to get out of here…"

After what seemed like hours, she finally got out of the building and started walking down the cool street. Being fall, moving towards winter, things were starting to cool down – this was Angel's favourite time of the year, with Halloween being his favourite holiday. Mimi had been looking forward to dressing up with him and going nuts – throwing a party and just living for the moment. Every time she saw him now, though, her heart stopped… the beating seemed to become non-existent and her virus-filled blood turned cold. She would become him very soon. Barely alive, held only onto life by the tiniest threads of hope, love, and strength. And she couldn't begin to imagine what Collins was going through, and dreaded to leave Roger in the same predicament, as she knew what happened to him after he lost April. But as he had not even loved April as much as he did with Mimi, it scared her even more that he'd do something to himself or others and she couldn't let it happen.

"Not while breath still flows into my lungs…" she softly vowed to herself, wrapping her coat more tightly around her petite body, to conserve heat.

"My love…" a tear fell from her eye and slipped onto her lip and into her mouth. The salty taste of her tears felt like multiple knives being shoved violently into her heart, twisting, and one after the other.

"… Shall never die." Her words floated on the air, and she could see her breath in front of her. To Mimi, it was like a sign of things to come, like each breath she could see on the air was just a bit of life leaving her. Everything was so weird now, and she crossed the street on her way to the park. When she wasn't at the loft, she was usually at the park, where she was most comfortable and even at peace.

Mimi wiped her eyes and took a tissue out of her pocket and blew her nose, wincing at the pain of an already red, sore nose. She looked around at her surroundings and smiled weakly, having found a new appreciation for her life that she wouldn't have without Roger and her friends. Angel especially had become close to her, and they were like brother and sister… or sisters… or however you want to look at it, they were like family. Both wanting the same thing from life, and both finding their first real loves from two men who touched their hearts, minds, bodies, and souls…

"Shadows…" she whispered to herself, half ill from a nasty cold, and also feeling the affects of withdrawal for not being able to get a hit of anything in the past few days.

"The darkness follows… fuck this!" she shook her head to try wake herself out of the truly fucked up state she was in that she tried to hide from her friends. Mimi always had a 'junkie's' perspective on the world, ever since she hit puberty. The world, through her eyes, was more fascinating… more of a curiosity… than it was a danger, or as it was told through the media. In her mind, the world was full of art and life that had yet to be discovered… and death and pain that had yet to be comforted and eased. Including her own. In many ways, she wished that she would die first. Before Angel or anyone of them, because she didn't want to go through the pain of having to grieve the loss of her friends, especially Angel. But at the same time, she couldn't imagine leaving Roger and everyone to mourn her. She didn't know what she wanted.

She knew she had people who loved her, and she loved them to death as well, but for some reason Mimi felt a sense of relief as her final days was approaching… she was sick of fighting for her life, which she believed was over now anyway.

"Better to get it over with," she reasoned to herself and entered the park. Not too many people were around, which was what she preferred, as it gave her a chance to think, and maybe even try to come to peace with herself, and her life. Maybe even God.

"I'm so fucked up," she scolded herself and slumped down against the outside wall of a building. She was a happy person, generally, though like many junkies, she experienced bouts of depression… Mimi just wanted things to be over with. For her pain to be gone, and for her friends to move on. The imminent threat of experiencing two deaths within close proximity of each other was a scary thought, and Mimi, although it may sound selfish, was kinda glad that she wouldn't be around to have to experience the deaths of her friends. So, in true junkie fashion, she reached into the knapsack she had with her and looked around, kind of paranoid, to make sure that no one was watching. Mimi's eyes brimmed with tears, just wanting the headache to go away so she could think straight. The world was spinning so fast that she felt sick, and started to move to throw up. But when the feeling subsided, she sat back in her original position, and pulled a small needle out of her pocket.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" she cursed a blue streak. One moment she would be happy and content, the next she'd be okay, and then the next she'd be totally down and depressed. She had the AIDS virus for about two years at that time, and she was used to being treated like something people stepped in. That's how she felt for the longest time – that all she was good for was for being stepped on… that no one would ever love her again… she had convinced herself of that for so long that when she met Roger, she felt those feelings instantly melt away and she knew he was special. But obviously, he had difficulty accepting her as readily as she did him… because, Mimi was a free spirit and very open to everything, including love. She just didn't live her life as if she was counting on love to save her, and in the end, that's what got her through every day. She wanted Roger to look in her eyes and tell her that he was in love with her. And she just prayed that Angel was right… that he would step up and say what he was really feeling.

She closed her eyes and could literally feel the drug enter her already drying up vein as the needle pierced her skin, her eyes becoming more blurry… the only light source was a street light that illuminated the dark world around her. It was early morning, but she didn't care. It could've been the middle of the day, but she'd still be doing it. The heroin felt warm, momentarily heating her blood as it surged through her deteriorating veins – like a magic potion. Her heart fluttered and her eyes closed, feeling the pain, the depression just being soaked up as the heroin invaded her body. Mimi had tried to quit. Many times, in fact. But somehow… her life… her pain… her love… her happiness of being with the people she loved… it was all not enough to motivate her to give up what made her feel different. And as sad as it was, it didn't matter to her anymore. Mimi Marquez had only weeks, if not days, left in her. Mimi Marquez was gonna die.

**2 HOURS LATER**

"I'm gonna go look for her…" Roger grabbed his jacket and hastily made his way across the loft to the door, but Mark jumped in front of him and pushed him back, gently.

"Roger, don't…"

"Mark! I—"

"Shut the fuck up. Leave her. She obviously needs time away for a little bit."

"You do remember what happened last time, Mark?" Roger was so infuriated that he looked like he was about to burst a vein.

"Yeah, I do. And I also know Mimi. She's not stupid. I mean, what'd you think she's wanting from all this, man? She's fucking dying!" Mark was almost yelling, fed up with Roger's behavior. Taken aback by his best friend's sudden outburst, Roger restrained himself from punching Mark out… after all, he was still having trouble coping with the fact that Mimi probably wouldn't last a month. And now, he just wanted to protect her and keep her safe. AIDS itself didn't kill people – it breaks down the immune system so much that people contract and die from illnesses that are usually prevented and even cured through drugs. In other words, AIDS victims died from complications related to the virus, such as cancer or pneumonia, or even the common cold. And so Roger was wanting to keep her wrapped up; trying to protect her from it all, even though deep down all his efforts would eventually be useless against the ravaging effects of the virus.

"Why do you think she runs away, Roger!" Mark tried to get it through him. He was so sick of these games that were going on with them.

"Why do you think she gets depressed? Why the fuck do you think she's still using? Come on, it's not hard. What's the one thing you haven't told her? What's the one thing she wants to hear from you?"

"What the hell are you talking about!"

"No. You figure out for yourself, Rog. Before it's too fucking late, that girl loves you… and she's going to die soon. That's the God damn truth and if you don't realise what you gotta do before too late, then that girl's gonna die thinking that she's the one who fucked up."

"What, you're a psychologist now?"

"No! I'm your friend. And I'm giving you some friendly advice. You don't have much time left…"

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ Let me know what you think! Should I continue?_**


	3. One Last lesson

'**Til Death Do Us Part 3:**

**One Last Lesson…**

**SUMMARY:_ In this chapter, Roger and Angel share their thoughts with each other, with the struggling musician being given his most intense lesson in love and acceptance. Collins and Mimi cross swords after they meet in an awkward situation… one that could potentially destroy her relationship with Roger._**

**NOTE: I wanna thank everyone who have reviewed so far, I really appreciate the kind words and that you're enjoying the story!**

* * *

Angel adjusted his wig and checked himself out in the mirror, making sure that every part of his flamboyant outfit was absolutely fabulous. It was 8:30 in the morning, and Collins and Mark had both left to go find Mimi… it was uncommon for her to disappear for a few hours, but since time was running out, Roger was getting more anxious, and had asked for their help. He was sitting outside, thinking. Collins had suggested that he stay in the loft, as Roger was probably the least person on earth who Mimi wanted to cross paths with. Mark agreed to search the streets around Avenue A, while Collins decided to head towards central park. So that just left Angel to do his thing, and to be honest, he was feeling better than he had been in weeks, so he was going to make the most of it.

"Perfect!" he exclaimed, happily. He was in a bouncy mood, with the renewed energy that he had – and certainly wasn't about to waste. October 19 was a perfect day so far, and it had only just begun… the dramas that played out in the lives of the seven bohemians (excluding the now rich Benny), was enough to fill several years' worth of soap opera episodes, and Angel knew he'd be the central character. He wouldn't have it any other way – although he'd probably have to duke out top spot with Maureen. Angel then searched his purse and pulled out what he was searching for.

"Dammit…" he muttered, seeing that his mascara had started leaking. His eyes scanned his purse quickly, and noticed the leak had spread across his other belongings, including make-up products, a few twenty dollar notes, and other things.

"SHIT!" he yelled and tipped the contents out onto the bedside table. Great, just what he needed… the first fuck up of the day. Like a diva, he reluctantly separated his belongings from the now-ruined purse, scared to get any of it on his skirt or top.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" he muttered, sighing frustrated. He then remembered that the night before, he had spilled the contents on the floor after accidentally knocking the bag off the table. He had asked Collins to pick it up for him as he was in the middle of messing around with Maureen.

"Nice one, Collins…"

Angel, saddened by the loss of his purse, threw it casually into the small waste basket in the corner of the bedroom and took out a handkerchief and started cleaning up the mess he had made – or should I say, _Collins_ made.

"Angel?"

The familiar voice startled the young street drummer and caused him to jump back and turn around from what he was doing. Standing in the doorway, Roger checked to see what was up.

"Roger… hey darlin'. What's up?"

Watching his friend, suspiciously, Roger slowly made his way into the room, his guitar in one hand and the other in his pocket.

"I heard you yellin' and cursin'. Everything cool?"

Angel rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Just a little accident. No thanks to Collins – I'll kill him later…"

Roger raised an eyebrow at him, slightly amused. He'd _pay_ to see Angel try take on the bigger, stronger Tom Collins… needless to say, it'd be funny. Casually, he leaned against the wall, just inside the doorway.

"And how d'you think you'd do that?"

"Honey, don't underestimate me. Benny's cat—"

"_Dog_…"

"Whatever… she underestimated me and look where she's at!"

Roger chuckled. "Yeah, well… I really don't think she would've thought it was coming either way, Ang."

"Hey! I still beat her! That bitch learned her lesson."

"First of all, she was a little dog. Second, you didn't beat her, the stupid thing jumped out the window."

Angel shrugged. "She had it coming."

Roger laughed at Angel's attitude. He definitely seemed in a brighter mood than he had been in recent days, and had even recovered from the flu he had suffered – so it couldn't be a bad thing that Angel was back to his old ways of his diva personality, which seemed overbearing, but in reality was just his very exuberant self enjoying his freedom and life in general. Roger could only wish he could set himself free like Angel… and be able to love, and accept the love of Mimi. She was everything he could ever want, and had lifted him out of the dark dungeon of depression that had almost killed him, following April's death. And yet… he couldn't bring himself to look in her eyes, and accept her or her love… and with her obvious impending death, he didn't want to do it to himself again. It was Roger's nature to be vindictive in times; in situations where he couldn't control his feelings; his life… Angel embodied everything that was good, pure, and free in the world. He lived life as a diva, on the edge… but loved everyone and everything like a child loved a parent – he was always growing, learning, and experiencing everything within himself, and was at peace with who he was, and the love he gave to people and received from them. Especially with Collins. Angel and Collins freely told of and showed each other, their love. They weren't afraid. They didn't inhibit it. They didn't care about what anyone else thought, because Roger knew… they knew… that they only lived and loved for each other. So, Roger thought, why couldn't he bring himself to accept that between him and Mimi? Why was it so hard?

Well, now seemed like as good a time as any to get Angel's advice… to have a heart-to-heart talk with a guy who had made sure that he experienced every aspect of life he could, because he knew his time was coming to an end. Angel continued to clean up the mess.

"Angel, can I ask you something?"

The younger man stopped and turned back, smiling. "Sure. Anything, everything, ask away! What's up, hon?" he put down the handkerchief and gave his full attention to the obviously troubled man standing before him. Roger moved across the room, and came to a stop at the window, staring out into the morning. New York was so different in the day time. Not any more or any less dangerous, but… it seemed softer. Not as unknown. More familiar. More… accommodating. Despite the hustle and bustle of everyday New York City life, it gave Roger a more greater sense of peace. He could see everything, and it made him more comfortable.

"What am I doing wrong?"

"What d'you mean?"

"You know," he turned around to face him. "With Mimi. Why can't I let myself love her? And tell her?"

Angel gave him a small, sympathetic smile. He then approached him. "Roger, you love her. You can't let yourself, or stop yourself from loving someone… it just happens. It's so… so… freeing… amazing… like you're flying! That's love!" he grinned and spread his arms out from his body, like he was flying. Angel's carefree spirit kept a lot of people happy and created an atmosphere unlike anything else… like all that was there in the world, was love and freedom, and… paradise!

"Like with you and Collins?"

"Me and Collins? Honey, there's no difference between the love between me and him, than there is between you and Mimi. Nothing."

"Right," Roger scoffed. "That's not what I see."

"What you see?" Angel frowned, trying to think how to approach it. "Well, what about what you _don't_ see? You think Collins and I are perfect… that our relationship doesn't have any problems? Darling, I'm gonna die. Soon. Before him. And it's killing him, and killing _me_ to see him like that. And we fight about it. There are times when I just don't wanna see him, and there are times when I'm not sure what I feel about him. But I know there's one thing I can't deny to myself… and that's my love for him." He sat down on the bed. "And that love always breaks through our problems. You can't deny it that you love Mimi… sometimes you can say the words, but deep down, you know you can't believe them."

"I love her," Roger quickly replied. "Ever since April, died—"

"See! That's it, Rog. That's what's stopping you from telling her. You still can't get over the fact that April forced you away from her. She killed herself. Now you're gonna blame Mimi when she dies, for leaving you just the way April did. You can't tell me you love her! Tell the girl, otherwise my ears will start bleeding with all this depression" he rubbed his ears and winked at Roger.

"No day but today, darlin'!"

"No, I—"

"Yeah, you will. You won't let yourself admit cause you know that once she hears those words from you… you can't take them back. You're relationship with her will be official, and the emotional attachment will be there forever. You won't be able to break it. The consequences of being in love with someone, is the grief when they're taken away from you."

Roger shook his head, spitefully. "What? You a shrink now?"

Being serious now, Angel touched his shoulder, reassuringly. "No. But I've seen it… everyday. And I've experienced it. Roger, what do you want me to say, baby? What'd you think I'd say?"

"That you'd understand."

"I DO understand!"

"No!" Roger pulled away from him. "No, you don't, Angel. You and Collins… you flaunt your perfect relationship, your love for each other all over the place. And I can't do that with Mimi!"

"Why not!" Angel yelled back, exasperated. It usually took a lot to piss him off, but seeing that Roger was barely making any progress to resolving his issues with Mimi before she died… it was frustrating… and it hurt him, too.

"You love her; she loves you. That's it. You won't let yourself love her because you don't wanna experience the pain and grief when she dies. You don't want to deal with it – you'll blame her for leaving you, you'll get angry… so you don't have to grieve. It's not healthy, Roger!"

"And what would you know?"

"I know that I'm gonna die before she does!" Angel spat at him. "I know that Collins and I have less time together than you two have. And we're making the most of it. Believe me, despite all this," he gestured to himself, the clothes. "… I hurt, Roger. It hurts so bad to have to accept the fact that Collins and I won't be together again. But you still have a chance to make things right with Mimi."

He then moved closer to Roger again, hoping to get the message to sink through the man's stubbornness.

"I know, honey," he spoke more calmly, in a more understanding tone. "I know what it's like to grieve… and it hurts. But you can't expect to stop it – pushing Mimi away won't stop you hurting when she dies… it'll just make you hurt more. Her last hours should be spent with the man she loves, not by herself or even with her friends. She should be with you – you two should be celebrating your love in her last hours… not grieving it, or mourning something that you haven't even really experienced with her. Believe me; you'll regret not being with her, not letting her know you love her… than you will by shielding yourself from her."

"I…" Roger stammered, tears brimming his eyes. "I can't…"

"You can, Rog. You know you can. You can't stop your grief… but it'll be less painful to love her and let her go, then to not. Like I said… I'm gonna die before her. I know it; I can feel it in my bones… my blood… you still have time. I won't lie and say that you have a long time, cause you don't…" Angel spoke the truth that he knew. Roger and Mimi were now on their last chance to make things right and to give each other the love that they both felt. It broke Angel's heart to see them both like this… Mimi was willing to give up everything to prove her love for Roger. And he was resisting it.

"But you have time. Don't waste it. Time won't wait for you, darling. Not for you… not for me or Collins… certainly not for Mimi."

Roger stared out the window as Angel talked. He knew that everything the younger guy said, made total sense, and he accepted that… but it was easier said than done. The thing was – he didn't see April's death coming, but with Mimi… he knew her time was almost up and it was so hard to let himself be exposed to that pain again.

"All this resistance…" Angel continued, with a wistful sigh. "You want to not feel the pain when she dies, Roger… you've made this all about you, when it's not. And," he stammered. "It's not even about Mimi alone. It's about the two of you. And your love. This isn't any easier for her, Rog… to leave the man she loves behind, going into a world she doesn't know. I'll take care of her when she gets there, I'll wait for her. But you gotta take care of her here, while she still has you – while you still have each other."

Knowing that he had said all he could without repeating himself, Angel turned around and reluctantly walked away, over to the door. He looked over his shoulder one last time, to see Roger still in the same position and staring out the window, deep in thought.

"You love her, Roger. She's the one who needs to hear the words… to experience that love…" he then left the room, thinking about his own words that he had just spoken. He and Collins needed to share their final days with each other, alone. He needed to make Collins realise that their love will last forever, into eternity, and that they'd both carry each other in their hearts… Angel suddenly found himself sitting on the steps outside the loft, wanting his lover to come home to him. He didn't want to spend a second longer apart from Collins that he had to. He took his drum sticks out of his leggings and started lightly banging on various objects, getting a good beat started, and singing softly.

"_Today for you, tomorrow for me…"_ he stopped and looked up at the brightening sky over New York City, taking in a deep breath.

**MEANWHILE – WITH COLLINS**

Finally, something… or some_one_… else had entered into his mind other than Angel during the past few hours. For days, only Angel existed in Collins' mind and he would have it no other way. But now, Mimi and her welfare was his main concern. He and Angel, as well as Mark, Maureen, and Joanne, all were concerned about what was going on, or rather what _wasn't_ going on between Roger and Mimi. They were concerned she'd fall back into heavy drug use if Roger was to totally reject her, which was looking like a strong possibility at the moment. Mimi was like a little sister to Collins, and there was no way he'd let her destroy herself. Sure, he knew love was worth fighting for – hell, it was worth Mimi was like a little sister to Collins, and there was no way he'd let her destroy herself. Sure, he knew love was worth fighting for – hell, it was worth _dying _for. But, it wasn't worth destroying yourself, hurting yourself, for. After all, love is best experienced when both the people involved have each other… to hold, and comfort… to share the kisses and each touch. To ache and pine for each loving stare into each other's eyes… it was all worth it.

Him and Mark had both agreed to split up to search for her. Mark would take the streets surrounding the loft, and Collins would go to Central Park to look for her. On the way, though, it required him to walk past Benny's million-dollar apartment, which he wasn't looking forward to. That area catered to the rich and their snooty lives. Collins could've had it… if he had chosen to conform and settle into being just another boring, normal, unchallenging college professor. He had been offered, in the past, jobs at MIT, New York University, even Harvard at one point. But his Actual Reality theory wasn't very well received at any of the institutions that he'd be even remotely interested in going to. In fact, earlier that year he had the opportunity to teach at NYU, but when they found out he was gay, was HIV positive, and had a drag queen, AIDS-infected, street musician for a lover… plus his theories and being a vagabond anarchist… it wasn't an appealing mixture for a university of NYU's stature, or for MIT or any other university. Conformity still ruled. He could've had Benny's life if he had really wanted it… but he wasn't prepared to give up his love, his friends, or himself. He'd never sacrifice who he was for the sake of fitting in with high society or society in general. He'd never be… nor would he ever _want_ to be, Benjamin Coffin III. Never.

Collins crossed the street and looked around at his surroundings as he passed them. Everyone was going about their business as usual; not giving him a second glance. He fitted in quite well with the normal New Yorker – if only they knew.

"Mimi where the fuck are you?" he muttered under his breath. Being nineteen years old, Mimi was the typical teen in being rebellious, experimental, and a complete brat at times. All Collins wanted to do was be back at the loft with Angel and his friends… being with them presented all the happiness he could ever need or hope for in his life. He then came to walking past Benny's apartment building… though the timing could've been better. As he was about to walk past the entrance, the doorman opened the door and a petite Latin young woman came stumbling out, adjusting her top. She stopped when she saw who was walking outside…

"Collins!" Mimi gasped and covered her mouth with both hands; regretting the instant moment when she said his name. The shock of seeing him there alone was too much, and she couldn't help herself. Collins' eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw the very… ahem… messed up looking Mimi Marquez at the top of the steps. Her hair was mattered and messed up, her top wasn't straight and her skirt wasn't zipped up properly, and she was carrying her shoes. He just stood there, gawking.

"Mimi…" he stammered; his voice calm. "_Tell me_ that you didn't just do… what I think you just fucking did…"

Mimi was horrified at this awkward encounter, and realised what this would mean for her relationship with Roger. Collins was always fiercely loyal to his friends, especially with Roger… and Mimi knew he wouldn't hesitate to tell him of this if she didn't. Meanwhile, Collins was still in shock at what had just happened – and now he had the urge to find Benny and, how should I say this…? Fuck him up.

"Mimi…?"

"Collins!" Mimi jumped down the stairs and into his arms, with an obvious pleading look in her eyes. "Collins, it's not what you think—"

"No, I'm betting it's _exactly_ what I'm thinkin'," he shot, viciously, at her. He pushed her back and held her by her arms, firmly but not too harshly.

"Mimi, how could you do this to Roger! With _Benny_! Of all people?"

Mimi burst into tears. "Collins, please! It's not that… I… I love Roger, I didn't… you can't say…"

Collins turned around and started down the street, heading back towards the loss. For sure, this would destroy any chance for Roger and Mimi to be together… but he wouldn't let Roger be betrayed…

"Collins!" she pleaded desperately, trying to pull him back. She was almost in hysterics, and knew that Roger would never forgive her for this.

"Please! Stop!"

"How could you do this, Mimi? After everything we've done to bring Roger around! He loves you!"

"Yeah, well he doesn't show it!" she screamed at him, and leaned against the wall, crying. Everything was going so wrong – her and Roger… her life… the virus was quickly consuming every last ounce of faith and reality in her. Now, everything was distorted and blurry – to Mimi, her entire world… her friends, her life… now that she was dying, it seemed meaningless, as horrible as that sounds. She kept waiting for her friends to give up on her, but never really expected Roger too… she kept expecting him to come back to her every time…

"He's never said it! He doesn't show it! Every time he does, he only shows it at 1/8 of an ounce at a time!" she covered her face with his hands, ready to give up.

"And so you go and fuck Benny to get back at him, is that it? You are so fucked up, Mimi…" Collins snapped, leaning against the wall next to her.

"You don't think I don't know that!"

"So why BENNY! I should go throw him out the same window Angel did with his dog!"

"I thought the dog jumped…?"

"Whatever!" Collins turned to her. "Mimi what the hell were you thinking? Whoring yourself out to Benny! Roger hates him with a passion and you know it!"

"I'm no sucker, Collins!" she protested. "I can't keep waiting for Roger forever. I have what… three, four weeks? Not even that!" she cried.

Collins shook her head, wondering what to do… he was divided between his loyalty to his best friend, and helping both Roger and Mimi see past their differences and realise their love for each other. Even though Mimi freely admitted her love for Roger, Collins was sure she didn't know what those words really entailed. Mimi had never been in a very serious relationship before, and her expectations were very hard to figure out.

"You don't know what you've just done, Mims…"

"I know…"

"You and Roger are through if, or when, this gets back to him…"

"I know…"

"And if you won't tell him – be honest with him – you know I will…"

"I KNOW, Collins!" she yelled at him, several passer Byers stared at them, trying to figure out what the commotion was about – not that it was very difficult, neither of them were really bothered with airing their personal problems out to the public. It didn't really make a difference to either of them.

"You and Angel," she snapped. "Have the perfect relationship. Angel isn't scared to tell you he loves you – he worships you, he'd do _anything_ for you! Fuck, Collins! Everything is so fucking perfect for you, you're boyfriend isn't scared to love you! You don't know how hard it is!"

"Oh you gotta be kidding me…"

"No. What am I doing wrong, Collins?"

He sighed and opened his arms as a gesture for her to come to him, which she did. Collins wrapped his arms around her and hugged her, kissing her forehead.

"Nothing," he replied. "You've done nothing wrong, Mimi. And neither has Roger, he just has… intimacy issues, I guess."

She snorted. "Yeah, no fucking kidding."

Mimi brought her hand up to her face, brushing back strands of hair from her face and that's when Collins noticed it. His eyes widened at the realisation of what she had been recently doing in the past few hours, and grabbed her wrist, pulling her arm out in front of him.

"Oh shit… you've been using again!"

She pulled her arm away and stood defensively. "So what!"

"So what! Mimi are you _trying_ to kill yourself?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Just trying to speed the process up."

"Mimi…"

"That'll do, Tom. It's done. Roger doesn't love me… I have betrayed him, I'm dying… I'm fucking high. I've got nothing left to live for."

Collins shook his head at the depression his friend was going through – the affects of the drugs were beginning to wear off and Mimi's despair was very obvious. What more could he or any of them do?

"Roger loves you, Mimi… he'll get it. But don't you be the one to make him realise it after you're gone. Love's not meant to be easy, Mimi." He turned to walk off, but then stopped and looked over his shoulder.

"And Angel and I don't have it perfect… we have love. That's it. I won't tell Roger about you and Benny. But you should… he deserves that much." Collins then walked further down the street, leaving Mimi to ponder his words. But about ten more yards, he turned around once more.

"Mimi?"

She looked up. "What?"

He smiled, reassuringly. "No day but today…" and without waiting for her to respond, he left her there, hoping that Mimi would finally step up and make a final attempt to experience love, with Roger. He'd deal with Benny another time.

Meanwhile, on the twenty-third floor, Benny stared down at Collins and Mimi from his window. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but from the way Collins was reacting to Mimi... it couldn't be good. Believe it or not, Benny didn't enjoy putting them through what he did –he just lead a different life now. He wasn't a bohemian anymore… he was a sophisticate… apart of the elite social groups now, and he couldn't afford to keep the likes of his ex-friends in with his life. As crap as his thought processes about that were, that's how many people in his position thought. To the social elite, those of bohemians and of poor background were not worth their time of day or money… unless there was some sort of monetary benefit to them, such as art or whatever.  
After Collins walked away, Benny continued to stare down at Mimi – he loved her, but her love was only for Roger. And she would be dead soon, and that would crush him.

With Mimi, she began to cough. Collins was right, she was fucked up and about to lose the love of her life. She betrayed Roger with Benny… she didn't deserve him. But at the same time, she was sick and tired of being constantly picked up and then thrown aside by Roger. She could feel the love from him, and see it in his eyes – but he couldn't say the words that she desperately needed to hear. Tears now flowed freely down her face, and she made no attempt to cover them. These were tears of grief… love… pain… sorrow… confusion… and desperation.

Mimi then stood up and wiped her face on her top. This was it. She had to fix things with Roger now, before it was too late. If he wasn't going to willingly talk to her, then she'd have to force his hand – his words.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** **_Hey, hope you're enjoying it so far. Let me know what you think, by leaving a review. Constructive criticism is always welcome. Please review! Don't make me beg! Lol. Let me know if I should continue. Thanks!_**


	4. Dead

'**Til Death Do Us Part**

**CHAPTER 4: Dead**

**_SUMMARY:_ Mimi has made what is probably the biggest mistake of her life and is on the verge of losing Roger forever, and now she has. He found out about her betrayal. This chapter takes place a week later after Collins caught her leaving Benny's apartment building, October 30th… Angel is getting worse…. Everything is starting to pick up speed now and only hours remain before one of them is separated from their lover forever…**

* * *

**11:00PM**

Roger stared, emptily, out the window of the loft- not speaking, looking, or listening to anyone… he wasn't even acknowledging any of them who where there with him. It had been a week since Mimi had arrived back, hysterical, with Collins at her side… and he had immediately known something was up. At first he thought she was hurt, or that the virus was taking a strangle hold of her, but the look on Collins' face told him that it wasn't any of that… and how Mimi was acting – and then she had told him what happened, after much prodding and pressure from Collins. And Roger had just stood there for fifteen minutes, with Mark and Angel at his side, while Mimi begged and pleaded for him to forgive her and that it had been a mistake. What happened next was pretty much a blur, but this is a general rundown of how things went: Roger screamed for her to get out of his life, and vowed that he would track Benny down and kill the son of a bitch. The woman he loved lied to him and slept with his most hated enemy. It took both Mark and Collins to hold him back from getting violent, and even so it took a lot of their strength… Roger's already fragile spirit had snapped, and now all he wanted to do was kill Benny and Mimi and anyone else who got in his way. It had taken Angel another three hours to calm him down; and now Roger was just depressed again… and the thought of suicide was mighty appealing. Collins, Mark, and Maureen were sitting on the sofa, with Angel on Collins lap, and all were concerned about Roger's state of mind. No one had seen Mimi since the day Roger threw her out, and she hadn't been heard from since then – Angel had canvassed the areas where he knew she hanged out or got her fix, but nothing. Well, Mimi Marquez had definitely hidden herself away good this time… and since it had been days when anyone had last seen her, no one could be sure that she was okay… or even alive.

"Someone's got to do something…" Maureen complained, confused. She was probably the least experienced person in the room when it came to dealing with other people's pain – although she was the most experienced person to deal out pain to other people, for example like she did to Mark. But she wasn't a bad person, far from it – Maureen just had her own way of dealing with things.

"Like what?" Mark shot back, resting his elbow on his knee and his head in his hand. What could they do? Mimi could be anywhere in New York City, and Roger was the most stubborn person – and most short tempered – of any of them. And besides, it wasn't their responsibility to interfere in their lives… but on the other hand, things were getting dangerous. Roger's temper was getting shorter, and Mimi was out on the streets probably freezing cold and in a very intense state of ill health.

"I don't know, Mark!" Maureen snapped, her voice soft enough so that Roger was out of earshot.

"Just something!"

"Shut up, guys!" Collins was so sick of their bickering – it was like an old record that kept skipping over and over the same track, it was annoying!

"Fighting isn't going to solve anything!" at least he was one of the rational ones in the group. Meanwhile, Angel was barely awake and his head rest on Collins shoulder and was wrapped in a blanket. He started coughing, breaking any chance of a fight starting, and Collins immediately squeezed him closer and kissed him, trying to remain strong for the both of them. He really didn't want to deal with any problems Roger and Mimi at the moment… his lover… the love of his life, was dying and by the looks and sounds of it, may only have a few hours left to live. Angel's face was dangerously discolored, his eyes were watering and bloodshot, and the coughing was starting to get so intense that it was beginning to hurt. Collins decided to wait until morning, and if Angel had gotten past the cold – or during the night, if he got worse – then he would take him straight to the emergency room… he wanted to take the fallen drag queen at the moment, but Angel refused to go. He refused to die in a hospital. Angel wasn't going to let himself die while being surrounded by death at the same time…

"Baby," Collins cooed, softly, and kissed Angel on the lips. The whole world disappeared around them, and now only they existed in each other's eyes, minds, and hearts. Angel's eyes flickered open and looked up at his love, though it looked like it was taking him all the effort in the world to do just that. It was agonizing enough to know that his life was almost over, but now to stare into those once-strong, now-weak dark brown eyes of the only man he could ever bring himself to love… it was worse than death.

Collins planted small, comforting kisses on Angel's face, sensing the fear in the young one's bloody. They were both shaking – it was time. At that moment, they could both feel it – it was going to happen within hours. Angel could feel the life being sucked out of him, while Collins could feel him slipping away in his arms…

"Co—Collins," Angel stammered. Mark and Maureen both tensed up, though Roger paid them no attention – he was barely alive in himself, let alone to the rest of the world where he could interact or heed the needs of others. Collins kissed him again.

"I'm here," his voice choked up. Angel smiled, weakly.

"Alone." He demanded, with Collins detecting a little hint of diva-attitude on his voice. "Now!"

Angel wanted to relax the atmosphere between them for what probably would be their last night together. As much as it hurt, they both knew it was coming… and so could everyone else in the room. Maureen stood up. She had to go call Joanne and let her know what was going on; about Mimi and Angel – everyone had to be there for Angel's final moments.

"Excuse me," she politely walked away and left the loft. Mark also stood up. If this really was the end for Angel, he was going to at least try to wake Roger up to the fact. The family was falling apart at the seams, but he wouldn't let it go without a fight – Mark had been resigned to the fact that he was now the outsider, looking in… the lone observer who saw everything happen and was there to catch it on film. The pain of watching a person die, let alone a close friend, was unbearable for anyone… but for the lone observer, it hurt even more when he realized that he probably would never experience the love that Angel and Collins were experiencing, or even Roger and Mimi. After all, if there was no love between the musician and the dancer, none of this would've happened between them and Roger wouldn't be reacting the way he was.

Before he walked away, he touched Collins' shoulder and caught his eyes. Mark nodded, in acknowledgment and then walked over to Roger, who didn't move or say anything him. His selfishness and self-pity was nothing to him anymore, but the hurt and betrayal lingered with such a strong, bitter taste in his mouth… everything was falling apart – life, love, friends, family… if you had none of that, what do you have? The hate, the anger, the pain… the evils that was once thought to be expelled from that small group of bohemians, had suddenly come back with a renewed force, and none of them knew if they had the strength or the courage to take a stand against it and fix the things that had gone terribly wrong.

Mark shook his head and grabbed Roger's arm, yanking him up. Roger got to his feet and stumbled back, surprised.

"Mark!" he snapped. "What the fuck's your pro—" before he could finish his question, Mark dragged him towards the door of the loft. He wasn't about to let Roger let Angel's last hours be ruined by spite and hate and self-pity.

"Shut up," he growled. "Come on, man. We're gonna talk." He opened the door, but Roger resisted.

"No fucking way, let me—" but again he was interrupted and Mark pulled him outside, slamming the door behind them, and leaving Angel and Collins alone. But neither of them had even noticed the small altercation – their eyes were locked and now their own world had blossomed around them. Angel closed his eyes and smiled, serenely. He knew that Roger's heart was broken, and he didn't blame him for what was going on… but Angel could no longer try and help them, not when his strength as almost nothing. Neither of them had a care in the world for anything anymore, except each other.

"Come on," Collins whispered, caressing his lover's thigh and kissed his ear, nibbling on it. Angel giggled and allowed himself to be picked up. As Collins got to his feet, with Angel in his arms, he was surprised at how light his love had become… AIDS can cause severe weight lose in some sufferers, though neither of them had shown any significant drops in weight, even as Angel was so close to death. But he was very easy to lift. Once Collins had him secure in his grip, he then took him towards the bedroom. Their last night would be spent in each other's arms; and no one could break that… but only if it came to the point where Angel did die. Collins still held out hope that they would pull through this, but both knew it wasn't probably going to be so. He felt the tears in his eyes at every sharp, ragged breath Angel took, and every cough, every splutter.

"It'll be okay," Angel whispered, taking a deep breath in and with it, Collins' scent. The scent he'd miss when he got to those pearly white gates… the scent that always carried him off to sleep each night… the scent that always comforted him and made him feel secure. How they would ever be without each other was never considered until now… both had just tried to not think about it. And now it was too late. It was like divine intervention was forcing their hands. Without even realizing it, Angel let out a sob – the emotions were overwhelming and the hours were growing darker. Hurriedly, Collins lowered him onto the bed and climbed up next to him.

"Baby," he tried to remain calm. "Do you need anything? Water? Jack Daniels?"

Angel chucked before letting out another very rough cough. Collins pulled him into his arms and resisted the urge to tell him that they would make it… all the comforting words he knew seemed meaningless now, as they bore no truth. Everything was not going to be okay. His lover would die, and so would his spirit – without Angel, Collins had no purpose for continuing on… without Angel, Collins couldn't bear to imagine what it'd be like to think, see, hear, or breathe… the past ten months had been a dream. And now, he was sure, he was about to wake up… the dream would be over. Angel's tears slid down his cheeks, and one silently fell from his eyes to Collins' chest. Another one slipped onto his lips and that all too familiar taste of salty pain and anger swept through his heart and tore at it like a shredder machine.

"My love…" he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and embracing every last second that had together.

"I can't leave you…"

"You won't, baby," Collins tried to remain strong, but had to swallow the lump in throat. He didn't want to be strong anymore, but it was Angel who was surely about to cross into the unknown… there was no consideration of the hospital anymore. Angel would die in his arms, as it should be.

"I love you…"

"I love you too," Angel could barely get the words out between sobs and coughs. He opened his eyes, and met Collins'. They stared into each other's souls, reading the very language that had bonded them together since the moment they met on that Christmas Eve – love.

"I will always, my darlin'…"

"Shh…" Collins hushed him and turned onto his stomach, leaning over the angel. He then raised his index finger to his own lips and smiled, as hard as it was.

"No more talking…" he then leaned down and the two began to kiss. Each kiss became more passionate, and their tongue's entwined together as if they'd never let go. Tears mingled with passion and raw emotion. Though because of Angel's delicate health, they had to be careful… but it didn't matter anymore. Collins' heart beat to the same rhythm as Angel, his best friend; his lover; his guardian angel… tonight would be the night where the full potency of their love would be realized. But the tears continued to flow… the love was raw and the atmosphere was calm… the end was going to come… but only on their terms.

Angel responded to Collins' kisses as vigorously as he could – all the energy he could muster was being thrown into his lover's embrace. His delicate hand ran up Collins' muscular back and stopped at his neck. If there was ever a moment when every ounce of love and passion was drawn from every aspect of the world into one spot, this was it. Nothing could match the intensity of their love… Roger and Mimi; Maureen and Joanne; nor even Romeo and fucking Juliet could match it. Seasons of love also brought seasons of pain and anguish, one that Collins felt he was about to go through alone. Would he get through it? Absolutely. Would he ever be the same when he did? Hell no. To imagine one's life being tied with another's so greatly that they couldn't imagine taking a breath without the person one loves by their side… it was a classic love story set in 1980's New York with the obstacles not being vindictive, warring families, but instead was a killer that reigned ruthlessly over its victims' lives – AIDS… 1980's society… death…

"Collins—" Angel broke the kiss to regain some breath, and then turned his head and coughed.

"Collins, wait… what's… what's gonna happen when I—"

"Stop," Collins cut him off by kissing him. He then pulled back. "Don't think of it as our last night together, it may not be…"

"Then what--?"

"Think of it as… as just the next stage, is all."

"What?"

"Angel… for so long now you comforted me. You told me that no matter what, we'd be together again… that you wanted me to move on… and it took so long for those words to sink in. I want you to move on, too, baby…"

"Move on?" Angel frowned. "Collins, what—"

"When you get there… and you meet Him… He'll know the good person that you were, Angel. He'll see that. He knows you even better than I do. And you'll be happy. For eternity…"

Maybe Heaven wasn't enough for Angel, though… through his grief, he couldn't see any existence as being happy without Collins. It was because of Collins that Angel had remained as strong as he had, that he hadn't died on some street corner without anyone caring or even noticing… without anyone loving him… without feeling love. Angel felt he owed his life to Collins and their friends… they were the most wonderful family he could ever want, and he never imagined himself having one until they waltzed into his life.

Without another word spoken, they resumed their kisses… each second that past was more life Angel was losing. They had nothing left to lose now, except each other.

**WITH MARK AND ROGER**

"What!" Roger demanded, sharply pulling his arm out of Mark's grip.

"What the fuck is your problem, man?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You! What's with the self-indulgent, self-pity crap? Angel is dying, your girlfriend is missing—"

"She's not my girlfriend!" Roger growled. "She's a whore. I don't care where she is…"

"Bullshit!" Mark replied, forcefully. "You know that's not true! Otherwise you wouldn't be moping around feelin' sorry for yourself. You fucked up as much as she did, Roger."

"I didn't go out and fuck Benny."

"No, she did."

"That's right."

"And you wonder why…?"

Roger sighed. "Everyday."

Mark rolled his eyes. He couldn't take this shit anymore – he couldn't just sit back and let his friends fall apart like this. Mark Cohen, after all, was a member of the family… he never was an outsider looking in. Just in his heart, he felt like he was. So, it was totally understandable what he did what happened next. He pulled his arm back and swung at Roger; his fist connecting with Roger's face.

"Argh!" Roger stumbled backwards until his back hit the wall. His nose started bleeding. "Mark, what the fuck was that for!"

"WAKE UP, man!" Mark yelled. "After all this time, you still don't know why Mimi's still using? Why she's out fucking her ex-boyfriend? Why she's running away? Oh man, I only had this conversation with you last week it's fucking de ja vu!"

"Yeah, well you're wasting your breath," Roger snapped. "I don't love her. She's not my girlfriend. I don't care what she does."

"Oh really?" Mark stepped up to him. "Well then that explains it all, then. Forget her. But answer me this… while you're wallowing in your sorrows, did you notice for one second that Angel's dying? That we have Collins on the verge of a total meltdown because his lover is only hours away from death? Have you noticed that this family is almost DEAD? So... you say you don't love Mimi? Fine. But I know you don't believe that. I know you, Roger. But if that's what you keep telling yourself, fine… but don't forget that everyone else is losing the faith we once had in each other."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I? Man, what will it take to wake you up? Finding Mimi's cold, dead body lying in a gutter?"

Roger's heart stopped at that thought, and Mark could see his physical reaction to the thought of Mimi being dead, all alone in the street… which totally proved that Roger was lying to himself. But what else could be done? Mark was about to give up on him… and once Angel was gone, there'd be nothing left – it'd be too late. His death would signal the end of the love that had held them together for so long, and that was the most unbearable thought of all.

"She betrayed me," Roger almost choked on the lump in his throat. Mark shook his head, sadly.

"She did. But you betrayed her too… you never told her the words she needed to here… and it forced her into the arms of another man."

"And what're those words?"

"You know what they are."

Roger slammed his hand against the wall – the pain was intense, but he paid it no attention. It was nothing compared to the tearing at his heart… and everything Mark had said was right. No matter what, Roger couldn't deny his love for Mimi no matter what she did… and he had driven her away. No… this wasn't his fault. Wait, yes it was. No, wait… the debate continued in his mind. His ego; his pride… for so long those qualities had carried him and sustained him through the darkest times in his life, but now they failed him. Those qualities were working against him and threatened to destroy his life rather than protect him.

"She betrayed me," he spat out venomously. "With Benny."

"She didn't betray you, Rog," Mark replied, his tone now softer…more gentle. "You did. You betrayed yourself. This isn't who you are…" he then reluctantly left his friend to think about those words and what he would do next. For the rest of the night, Roger sat outside… just thinking. Mark retreated to the sofa in the loft and lay down. Everything was about to die, not just Angel. And he'd be there to catch it all on film. What a year. The question he was asking himself now…

"How do you measure the life," his whispered, idly playing with the camera. "Of a woman or a man?" he switched the camera on and looked at the feedback… the moment he finished his sentence, and image appeared on the screen. It was all of them at the Life Café… the night of La Vie Boheme. I was all there. The family. The laughing; the smiling; the singing; the love; the strength of the bond that once was.

"Measure in love…"

**THE NEXT MORNING**

Collins hadn't gotten a wink of sleep that night… he couldn't. He didn't want to be asleep and then wake up to find Angel dead in his arms. But his young lover had fallen asleep a couple of hours ago, after a night of passion and fire. He seemed to be comfortable and okay – only a few restless turns had gained Collins' concern, but other than that, the rest of the night had been peaceful. All he could think about was when it was gonna happen. It might not end up being today at all! It could be tomorrow; next week; or even next month! But whenever Angel's time came, there'd be no preparing for it… you can't prepare for death, because you can't know what death is, how to experience it, or what happens after it occurs. All anyone can do is mourn it.

"Honey, you look like hell," came a weak, yet alive, voice from next to him. Collins looked to see Angel smiling up at him, resting comfortably. He smiled back. But before he could think of a clever comeback, Angel started coughing, violently. The brief moment of tranquility was over. Alarm bells went off in Collins head, and he sat up and pulled Angel into a sitting position in between his legs. The coughs were becoming more and more painful for the drag queen, and he could barely breathe. The room began to blur and even Collins' face darkened.

"Angel!" Collins panicked. The coughing soon died down and tears streamed down Angel's face, and his too.

"Collins…" he sobbed, taking deep breaths.

"Angel, please!" Collins rocked him, gently. "Please, hang on, baby. I'm getting' you to a hospital!" he started to move, but Angel gripped his arm.

"No!" he breathed harshly, trying desperately to hang on. The time was winding down, he could feel the blood in his veins starting to slow… his heart beat started pounding against his chest so fast that he thought it'd explode. Collins burst into tears… no… no not now. Not now!

"Collins, no!"

"Angel, don't give up! Please!"

"Collins, it's over!" he cried.

Collins didn't know what to do – now everything had lost perspective… Angel couldn't die now! He couldn't! He wasn't ready – Collins wasn't ready! They still had so much to say to each other, so much to do! He reached over to the side table and picked up two tissues and gently pressed them against Angel's forehead, dabbing at the sweat and tears. Death came at the most inconvenient times…

"Baby," Collins begged. "Come on, you can make it!"

"Collins," Angel grasped at his lover's shirt and pulled him closer. All he wanted to do was to feel Collins' tender lips on his own again – to take that sweet moment, the flavor over with him to the next world. With his kiss, he would be able to prepare himself to face whatever his Creator had in store for him.  
Collins took the hint and leaned down and pressed his mouth to the dying man's and forced himself to not ruin the moment by crying. He silently prayed to God that he would at least give them time to say goodbye.

Angel's breathing got deeper and deeper, his mind was focused on the man next to him. The pain Collins would go through after he died; what would happen to him in the next life… all the different scenarios were at the forefront of his mind, and there was nothing he could do but count down the seconds as each breath released a little bit more of his soul into the next life.

"I'll get the others," he started to get up, but Angel maintained his grip on his shirt.

"No," he again said, weakly. "No, honey… please… just you and me…"

"But they—"

"I love them," Angel's watery eyes stared innocently in Collins' soul. "You… you came into my life and everything became perfect," he sobbed. "And when you – all of you – came into my life, I was blessed. I'm so lucky to have you all… and you, baby,"

Collins didn't like what he was saying... Angel was speaking his deathbed words, his final words.

"Angel, don't say—" Collins cried and clutched Angel closely, holding his hands to his chest and kissing his face all over.

"Don't say it…"

"I have to!" Angel coughed out – he was now paler than he had even been; his eyes were bloodshot and sunken back into his face. It became clear how much weight he had loss and the toll that the stress had taken on him was overwhelming. The feeling of death and the stages of passing were overtaking him and Angel had no idea what to do. On one side, his grief-stricken lover was calling for him to stay, but on the other side, divine forces were arriving to take him beyond this world and into the next.

"Collins… I love you so much; more than any man I've ever known. The love we have, it'll never die, honey. I'm always with you – forever… move on and be happy, and we'll be together again, I promise!"

"Angel, you can't!" Collins went into serious denial. "I won't let you, baby. The hospital, we still have a chance—"

"What? So I can die with the others? Collins… all I want is to be with you, darlin'."

Collins inhaled sharply. "I… you're my Angel… you can't…"

"And I won't…" Angel was interrupted when he started coughing, but it faded after a few more seconds. "Tell Mark that no matter what, he has to finish his film. Tell him that only with its completion will our family live on!" Angel knew that the group was dying, and only with Mark's film could they see exactly what they had. Collins merely smiled through his tears and nodded.

"And Roger… get him to see Mimi… bring them back to each other, don't let their love die. And tell Mimi to get off the fucking drugs, man…"

Collins chuckled at Angel's continued diva attitude even as death was taking him.

"Tell her that I'll meet her when her time comes, and not to be scared."

Again, his lover nodded in understanding his final requests. He couldn't believe this was happening – Angel was going back to heaven… his Father was calling him home; his work was done. Angel had touched magic on every one of their lives and had bought them together in a way that no one else could… he brought love, laughter, and spirit. Everything that a family needs to remain strong and to get through all the evil and bad times. He truly was an angel. And he was going home.

"And Maureen… tell her that her voice is her power, and that she has to use it for all of us… tell her there is love for her – with Joanne, with all of us. Tell them all how lucky I was to have them with me, and I'm taking a part of each other them with me, okay? So you know I won't be alone. And I'll be waiting!"

Collins' body shook from silent sobs and the tears slipped down his face and onto Angel's chest as he cradled him in his arms. He reached up and stroked Collins' cheek, ready for his final kiss… their most passionate one and pulled Collins to him. Their lips met and everything that they had experienced – from their first meeting, to their first dance, to their first kiss, to the first time they made love… and everything that had happened since then… it all came flooding through their lips; their tongues… Collins pushed the kiss deeper and Angel responded with more energy than he had in him for the past several months. The passion and love was at its climax, until Angel pulled away ever so slightly and reluctantly… their faces remained with in inches of each other and Collins could feel Angel's shallow breath on his face. Their eyes remained locked.

"I'll never, ever leave you, my love," Angel put his hand over Collins' heart, and his eyes fluttered. Tears caused his brown eyes to sparkle. "I love you."

"I love you too, Angel," Collins whispered, planting one more soft kiss on the young man's lips. When he opened his eyes and pulled back, Angel's eyes closed and his breathing stopped, and his chest stopped rising. Angel Dumott Schunard had died.

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**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ Okay… should I continue? Wow that was intense. Let me know what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

'**Til Death Do Us Part**

**Chapter 5: Mourning…**

**_SUMMARY:_ Angel has died, and Collins is devastated… and the group was falling apart; nothing was the same anymore. So as Collins is falling deeper and deeper into depression, Mimi is still missing and she is getting closer to death – and time is running out for Roger to find his words for her. In this chapter, we also follow Angel into death and the journey, the process he must proceed through on his Judgment Day.**

* * *

All was now quite in the room, with exception to the gently, yet harsh, sobs that escaped Collins' throat and wracked his body so much that it hurt. His lover now lay still in his arms… no breath of life, no rise and fall of his chest that would single that he was still in the realm of the mortals… nothing. Small whimpers were the only sound Collins could make – it was finally over. Angel's eyes had closed for the final time… the professor gently placed his fingers on Angel's lips, and was shocked at how quickly they had lost their warmth, as his limp body now had been separated from his soul. Collins looked around the room, terrified and confused… like he didn't know where he was or what to do now – like the entire world had just fallen away and was replaced with a void. Nothing.

"An…gel…" his whispered; his voice now small and filled with grief. As expected, he got no response to the mention of his love's name. And forever he would have to grow accustomed to not having Angel's sweet voice float through the air like the wind – Collins felt naked without that voice, and with the knowledge that he'd never taste Angel's lips on his ever again. Now, Collins also has the virus also, so one would expect the he, too, wouldn't have long to live, but that's not true… at that moment, his health was as good as could be expected and for all they knew, he could live another ten or fifteen years and still not have Angel at his side.

"No…" he sobbed softly and his head fell onto his lover's chest and started crying openly. Angel was dead. He would never be with him in this world again… no more sweet kisses… no more love-making… no more of those beautiful brown eyes staring into his own. All there was in Collins' mind now, was nothing… nothing existed to him now- because without Angel, there wasn't anything that could breathe life back into his soul. Collins' soul felt as dead and lifeless as Angel's body… and the weight of that, he knew, would stay with him until the day he died as well. The air in the room grew cold and he felt as if it were being sucked out of the room, as well as his lungs… Angel breathed life into every room, every person, every soul he touched, and his death would not pass the world unnoticed. Another angel had departed the earth – his work had been accomplished in bringing people together, and more importantly, showing them the meaning of love… he taught them how to love, and that love itself was everywhere. Between lovers. Between parent and child. Between friends. Between siblings. Between owner and pet. Everywhere it existed in different forms and was expressed in different ways… but that didn't make it any less potent or special from one way to the other. And Angel, Collins knew, showed them that – he showed them the world beyond just what they could see, and if anything that was the work of God himself working His divine will through one of his children; his Angel. And at least that provided Collins with a measure of comfort…

He lifted his head and looked at Angel's face and a small smile played across his own face, through the tears. His heart beat was so heavy, it felt like lead – but all Collins could do was smile at the young man who had brought so much hope and love into his own life, and taught him to believe in the powers of the Creator, and to appreciate life and love in all its glory.

"Angel… my angel…" he whispered and let his fingers glide across Angel's lips and then across his eyes and the smooth texture of his skin. The peaceful look that Angel died with was enough to prevent Collins from breaking down entirely.

It was then that a knock came at the door, snapping him from his trance and he looked up. Without having the chance to respond, the door opened and Mark rushed in with his camera, looking at it in a very annoyed way – he didn't know what had just happened.

"Hey guys," he started, still fidgeting with his camera. "Sorry to interrupt, but I—" he stopped when he looked up and he dropped his camera. His eyes fell on the scene like a ton of bricks hitting a concrete pavement… Mark stared in total confusion. He took the scene in visually, though his mind took its time to process it. There on the bed, a tearful yet surprisingly placid Collins was cradling Angel who wasn't moving. Collins let out another sob and couldn't contain his emotions any longer, and Mark almost tripped over himself.

"Collins? Angel?" he stepped forward. Finally, with another person in the room to take the strength from his heart, Collins burst out crying and fell back down on the bed; Angel's lay next to his. Mark's throat closed and a sudden wave of panic and helplessness… he rushed to his friend's side and started shaking his head, trying to deny himself of what his eyes were telling him – this couldn't be true.

"No…" he choked up. "No… Angel! Collins… wh—" he stopped again when he saw the absolute grief on Collins' face. Angel was gone. All Mark could do now was embrace Collins, and before he could really process the scene, another person entered the room.

"What's happened, I—" he paused, just like Mark had and saw that the time had come. But unlike Mark and Collins, he wasn't surprised… nor was he stunned or even crying. Roger breathed in, sharply and maintained his composure. His friend had died while he was wallowing in his own problems, and hadn't even said goodbye to him or spent time with him. In front of him, Mark and Collins were both crying and holding each other for comfort… but Roger just stood there, frozen. Time itself had stopped for this very minute and everything in life seemed to just not move.

Roger swallowed the collecting lump in his throat and immediately wiped away tears and any sign of emotion… this was a sign of things to come for Mimi – and Angel had died without seeing any of his dreams and words of wisdom come to pass. Collins ran his hand over Angel's chest and leaned down to kiss him once again – his lips were met with an eerie chill. No kiss back. Roger watched him and that's when it hit him. His body began to tremble and he fell back against the wall for support.

"Angel," his voice wavered. "I'm sorry…" he then turned around and ran from the room, unable to stay there with Angel's lifeless body. Tears streamed down his face and he threw the loft door open, which slammed against the wall with so much force, energy, and passion. It was over.

**WITH ANGEL**

His eyes opened. It was black. _Am I blind?_ What was happening? There was just nothing there; nothing to see; nothing to hear… was he dead? He was dead! Angel whimpered and all he could remember was the dark chocolate brown eyes that was his love… what was this? Purgatory? Was he on his way to hell? Angel couldn't feel any sort of ground or hard surface below him – and there was nothing in front of him or behind him… just pitch black. It was like he was floating… suspended in nothing. Tears threatened to fall and he held his hands to the sides of his head, squeezing his eyes shut. The pounding of his heart was the only sound in his head and his skins became damp and soaked in his sweat and tears…

"Collins," he whispered. Angel's diva-attitude, his drag façade, his whole life now was emptied from him and there was just him, stripped emotionally. Speaking of stripped, something caught his eye and he looked down at his clothing. Pressing his hands to his chest and torso, and feeling the soft silky material between the tips of his fingers, Angel could see the white material that fell against his skin like butter. His garments were unlike any material he had ever seen in his life. But the clothing wasn't the only confusing thing of this all… just then, something flashed and Angel's head snapped up to see what it was, but it was gone. His heart raced and his breathing grew shallow and ragged. His eyes darted around in the darkness, but saw nothing again. Was this the calm before the storm when everything seemed so still and frozen. A glimpse of things to come, perhaps? But then, it happened again! An image flashed in front of him for only a few seconds, so bright that he blinked numerously and shielded his eyes from the sudden change in the brightness – even though it was only a few seconds, it was enough for him to recognize the image. And Angel was shocked, to say the least. Right as if he were back in time, at that time and place, he was in the backstreet behind a few buildings – and there he had seen the image of himself with his first gay experience when he was sixteen– having sex with a man probably double his age. Gay anonymous sex. It was also his first sexual experience, and needless to say it was scary, obviously. After around five seconds, the image faded and everything turned back again…

"Oh God," he stammered, looking around. Another image came into focus, and once again it was like he was being placed in it. Suddenly, Angel found himself on top of one of the building, on the roof top and overlooking the rest of the city. He recognized what it was… it was when he was eighteen, and he had just been diagnosed with HIV. Angel saw him as he had once stood at that ledge, contemplating suicide. The thoughts that had been running through his mind, he could now hear as if he was saying them aloud… they were thoughts that he had as he stood on that ledge some four years earlier, with that little white piece of paper in his hand that revealed the blood results.

"_If I was to die… no one would catch me…"_ one thought rang clear, out loud.

"_Would anyone even look up?"_

Horrified upon the realization that these were important moments in his life that were flashing before him. He was here… it was his Judgment Day… With his eyes wide and studying the surroundings that he was once his reality; his life, Angel reached out to feel the wall of the building – but instead of feeling the rough, hard exterior of the brick wall, his hand slipped right through it, and then the image (the memory) faded away again. Blackness over took him again and the being in the dark, all Angel could wonder was which way he would go. These were moments that he knew he would be judged for. After all, where you went in the next life was all dependent on what you did in this life now. And there were many things Angel had to answer for, he knew, and that he wasn't proud of, and hell, was even ashamed of. But in his heart, he was good... he loved and was loved; he taught love; he experienced it and felt it with every ounce of strength that he lived and died with. No matter what happened to him, the last year especially, was the most special time he could ever have imagined for himself. And that's got to count for something, right?

The next moment in his life was one that preceded both those ones, to when he was a child of maybe seven or eight… it was at his home, with his family. In their living room. Angel choked up at remembering the moment, and saw three familiar figures fade into view. There he was, standing in his old living room in front of his past - his mother, his father, and himself as a child.

"Mom…" he reached out to his family, but then caught himself when he remembered they couldn't see or here him. After all, this was just a memory, a moment in his life which would turn out to be so defining his life. It was the moment when both his parents looked in his eyes and both told him how much they love him… how special he was… and how important family was. He couldn't hear them, but he knew it was that moment – never had he felt so much love than he had then… until he met Collins, of course. But that was the first time he realized how important family was and the love within that family.

"Momma…" he whispered and a single tear was finally released and slid down his cheek. He had ran away from home for good when he was thirteen years old when his dad found out that he was gay, and they had a huge argument about it. Angel's father had hit him, and Angel ran from the house never to return. And he hadn't seen them since then… Angel's one regret was not leaving Collins – because they had parted in the most beautiful way possible – it was that he never got to say goodbye; to make amends with his mom and dad.

The image also faded and was quickly replaced by another one, which caught his breath and he gasped. It was him and Collins… the night they met… the moment they touched for the first time… Christmas Eve, 1988. Being no longer able to hold it in, Angel burst into tears and tried to reach out to Collins – wanting desperately to feel his lover's skin on his own again. But once more, his actions proved futile and his hand gently went through Collins' arm, or at least the image of him.

"No…" Angel stubbornly pulled back from the image. From there, he didn't return to the black void that he had passed through from life into death… instead, the image transitioned into another one; another moment of Angel's life that would forever stand the test of time, as proven now. It was when he was buying Collins the coat on that very Christmas… and the next memory was of him and Collins making love. Nothing like his first experience with sex, this time it was pure love at its rawest, most defined moment… this was all too much!

Two seconds later, everything faded away to blackness once more. Whimpering and crying, a broken down Angel was now at the most perilous stage of his existence… as was the very nature of Judgment Day – to break the human spirit down to its most basic element; to strip away everything built up on him because of his upbringing or who he came in contact with; or even who he loved… stripping his soul down so that the real him; the true Angel Schunard would stand before the Almighty for his time.

"Collins…" he called the name of the only man he loved, and who had experienced his last human moment with, and he closed his eyes.

A few seconds later, he opened his eyes and was stunned to see that now he was no longer surrounded by blackness, but instead everything was now white! Shaking beyond his control, Angel then felt something hard against his back… he was lying down! Confused, he pulled himself into a sitting position and jumped when a hand was extended to him. Looking up, a man dressed in a white gown and sandals stood in front of him with a very pleasant, comforting face. Angel was suddenly overcome with a sense of comfort and trust from this person, and so reached and took his hand, and was swiftly brought to his feet. The man smiled.

"Angel Dumott Schunard…"

He didn't say anything as he was too scared… fearing that he would say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing. The person chuckled.

"Rest your soul, child," he reassured him. "You are safe. You are home."

The man raised his hand to Angel's face and pressed his fingers to his tears, wiping them away. The man then pulled Angel's arm to lock with his own.

"I understand you must be scared, child. Fear not. You've come home…"

"I… I…" Angel stammered. "W… what's happening?"

The person chuckled and patted his arm. "I must explain, dear child. You are home. You are safe. You are with your Creator…"

Angel's eyes widen. He's home? Heaven?

"Yes, Heaven," the person continued.

"But I…" Angel's confusion had peaked. "I… Judgment? Home?"

They stopped walking thorough the vastness of their white surroundings. There was nothing in sight except white. The man kissed his forehead.

"A myth must be dispelled of your Judgment, Angel," he spoke seriously. "Your Creator looks at the life you lived on earth… the person you are… the person you were born as and born to be… and you're home. Faithful servant."

"You mean… I'm in Heaven?"

The angel nodded. "Indeed. You must understand… it is not a person's actions that define who he is… it's his choices… his spirit… his embracing of his Creator as his Father, and accepting His divine wisdom… you are loved, Angel. And you are love. Your Creator sees that."

"But…" Angel stuttered. "I was told… I wouldn't… I mean… I'm gay… I killed a dog! I—"

"Shh… shh… Angel… there is much more to you then what you realize. Love, true love, comes in many different ways… your Creator sees that. Your creator knows the depth of your soul; your heart… You are home, child. All answers will soon be answered in due course. Your Creator saw your life… from its beginning to its end… and He can see you now. Scared, yet embracing Him. He says for you to calm your fears, as you are now safe with Him for eternity."

While holding his arm, Angel was still shaking so badly. This whole experience… everything he had ever dreamed had come true.

"The Father names all His children, Angel," the angel continued as they started walking again.

"And He has His Divine Will. A reason for everything; a purpose for all. And there was a reason He named you Angel."

"Why?"

"Because, child… you spread His love through His children… you were meant to complete His wishes, and you did. You did so, very well," the angel smiled warmly. Once more they stopped and Angel finally regained enough of his composure to be able to think a little more clearly. The angel standing before him was so comforting; so warm; so… so safe! But Angel continued to shake. This was all just too much… too much. The man, the angel, kissed him on his forehead again.

"You have taken Him into your heart… and He has embraced you in His arms… for ever…"

Angel shifted his weight to his other leg, still very confused and scared… "W… May I ask you something?"

"Indeed. Questions may always be asked, child…"

"W… where is He? I mean… God… my Father… where is He? Why isn't He here?"

The man smiled. "He has always been with you, Angel. In fact, He is here with you right now… He always was…"

And then, the man stepped away from Angel, and slowly a glow stared to appear around him. Terrified, Angel stumbled back at what he was seeing. The man started to glow even more, as well as several figures – angels – appears just behind him. Angel's eyes widened and he dropped to his knees. Standing before him… the angel revealed himself to be Him. God.

**WITH COLLINS**

Each step he took down the stairs thudded with heavy resonance – as light in his head that he felt, his legs were like dead weights, unable to move without the energy being forced through his veins. The ambulance was called, and a few hours, removed Angel's body from the premise… and it was hard enough for the medical personnel to be able to loosen Collins' grip on his deceased lover, but Mark, Maureen and Joanne had all managed to calm him down long enough. Even Benny had stopped by to see what was going on, and found that Angel had died – but Roger and Mimi were no where to be seen. Roger had run out on the scene after finding out about Angel's death, and who knows where Mimi was – she didn't even know Angel was gone. It was now five o'clock in the afternoon – Mark, Maureen, and Joanne had left to go find Mimi and Roger (they had left several hours earlier), leaving Collins to grieve alone, which is what he wanted. But as dead as Angel was, so too he felt dead. Any bit of life in him had died the moment Angel's soul left his physical being and departed into the next world, wherever or whatever that may be.

Collins walked outside and wrapped his coat around him, tighter. It wasn't cold – after all, it was October and the weather was warming up quite well. But he wore the coat that Angel had bought him almost a year earlier, and it still had his scent… nevertheless, letting go of Angel and moving on wasn't going to be an option for Collins for a long time. Benny had offered to make the funeral arrangements, in which he and Mark gladly accepted – financially speaking. But now, all Collins wanted to do was be by himself. In what was the worst day of his life, Collins had lost his soul mate and his own soul. Everything was cold now – physically, spiritually, emotionally… he was drained. He cried all his tears and now was left with the aftershock of the day's events.

He stood in front of this building for a few minutes and looked around at his surrounding environment. Everything was still the same; nothing had changed… people kept going about their business. Birds kept chirping away. Car horns kept honking in the distance. The air was still crisp. The sun was still shining. So… why did everything feel so different without Angel there?

Tears blurred his vision, but Collins didn't break down – they threatened to fall, but he didn't care.

"Angel," he whispered. His lover's name seemed to carry on the wind as a small breeze suddenly came through, causing him to shiver… like Angel was right there and had heard him!

"Angel…" he spoke again, but this time nothing happened. Taking a few more steps away from the building, Collins found his legs were turning from the heavy feeling, to more like jelly… like he was gonna fall down at any moment, so he leaned against the side of the building to steady himself. Everything in front of him was blurry, and he couldn't make out what was ahead of him too clearly. Blinded by his tears and grief, Collins had no one to turn to… the next few days he would be surrounded by his friends as they would try to help him pick up the pieces of his shattered heart. Having no more strength, he fell against the side of the building again and slid down to the ground. Pulling his legs to his chest, Collins started to sob, wrapping the coat tighter around him. The pain was never going to end…

**MEANWHILE, WITH MARK AND MIMI**

Mark had found Mimi at a local junkie spot near Central Park… it hadn't taken him long after threatening a couple of scrawny junkies who knew where she was, to hand in the footage of them shooting up that he had caught, out if they didn't tell him. Needless to say, it worked. Now, Mimi was in his arms, sobbing openly and hating herself for missing that last precious hours of Angel's life… Mark also found it hard to not cry. He hadn't wanted to leave Collins alone, but things had gotten so out of control with Mimi and Roger, that they couldn't even mourn the loss of the one person who single handedly taught them all how to love again… how to live again.

"I wasn't there…" she sobbed in his arms, clutching onto Mark for dear life. "This… can't…" she sobbed and swallowed. "… b… be happening…"

Mimi felt so guilty for something that she couldn't prevent, and from what Mark told her, all Angel wanted to do was spend his last hours with Collins, which was fair enough. But the fact that she had continually run off, and Angel always took care of her no matter what and she never really repaid the favor… Angel was gone. Angel was gone? Those words were too difficult to sink in. Her eyes were now swollen and bloodshot from the crying she had done. She staggered to her feet and Mark helped her up.

"Come on," he said, softly… sadly. "I'm takin' you back…"

"Back where?"

"To the loft. You need rest."

"Mark, our friend is dead!" she cried, hysterically. "Angel is dead! I'm not going back—

"Well you can't stay here!"

"Mark," she burst into tears again, and he pulled her into his arms. The grieving process has begun… in his mind, Mark believed that Angel really had no idea of the impact he had on all their lives. Even though he was being strong at this moment, it wouldn't last. And he would have to go through process three more times, sooner rather later. Mimi. Roger. Collins. The AIDS virus would soon claim their lives too, and they would go through a slow death… dying in stages… just as Angel had. And to be honest, Mark wasn't sure if he'd be able to hold up much longer for Angel's passing, let alone stand to see three other members of the family disappear before his eyes. Next to Collins, Mark was going to hurt the most from Angel's death, because he would see them all die from the virus that had ravaged America and the western world… a disease that had only been identified about seven or eight years ago, and they still knew little about it. Death was slowly eating away at the tight group of bohemians, and Mark Cohen would be the one to survive with it all on film… the harshness of reality; the fragility of life. What did it all mean?

But all Mark could do was hold the weak and dying Mimi. The full extent of what was happening; the grief, the emotional loss of his friends… he could feel it all. And it was slowly tearing away at his heart. With Mimi, it was different. At that moment, she was junked-up on anything, and so all she wanted to do was take another few hits of smack to kill the grief; kill the pain. Mark kissed her forehead and tried his hardest to provide some sort of the comfort to the guilt-ridden nineteen year old.

"He's gone," he choked up. "He's gone… he went on his terms, though, Mims. He went happy… a smile on his face… Angel's okay… he'll be okay."

"Why the fuck did this have to happen?" she screamed, slamming her back against the wall. "WHY? Why ANGEL? Fuck this shit, Mark!" anger was now quickly replacing the initial shock and grief. Angel was as his namesake told… an angel… he had brought so much love into their lives, and then he was ripped away from them! Her heart was hurting, physically hurting, and her anger was not helping her at all. She hadn't said goodbye to her beloved Angel, who only tried his best to look out for her and to help her find her way back to Roger's arms, forever. And he died not knowing her gratitude… she never told him.

"Why?" was all she could sob. "Why?"

Mark swallowed the emotion in his throat and wiped his eyes. "You know something? I bet Collins is asking himself the very same fucking question…"

Mimi's eyes widened. "Oh my God! Collins! How is he!"

"How the fuck do you think he is, Mimi!" Mark snapped, angrily. "With you and Roger off in your own little fucking world, Maureen, Joanne and I had to come look for you – Collins is by himself, grieving, and I don't know what he'd do. He just lost the love of his life, Mimi… and all you and Roger are concerned with is you fucking Benny and him not committing. And you know something? At least Angel and Collins had the fucking courage to tell each other of their love, and not hide it."

Mark let her go and stared angrily at her.

"All Angel wanted was for you both to see the fucking light. And you couldn't even do that. Now at least do something for him now… come back to the loft. Collins needs us."

Mimi sniffed and absorbed his words. She couldn't believe this was happening; she couldn't imagine not having Angel in this world, and couldn't begin to understand what Collins was going through.

"I…" she stammered and stood up straight. "I can't go back…"

"Mimi!" Mark interrupted. "Have you been listening to a word I've told you? Fucking hell, ANGEL IS DEAD!" tears slipped from his eyes. "He's DEAD! Collins needs us; he needs his friends…"

"He'll be there—"

"Roger?"

"Yeah…"

"Oh for fuck's sake. Mimi, Roger's disappeared. Maureen and Joanne are trying to find him now… and who cares if he's there? We need to help Collins! No one should be alone now… Angel wasn't. You shouldn't. None of us should. Get your ass back to the loft!"

"Mark, it's not that simple!"

"Why? Why, Mimi? Our friend is dead… and you can't even mourn him with your friends?"

"I—"

"Shut up. Look, if this is how you're gonna act, then fuck you. Roger doesn't deserve you. Unless you can swallow your ego and go support your friends."

Mark's words were harsh and then tension between them was extremely rough. As bad as it sounds, all he wanted to do was knock some sense into her. Literally. She was just acting like a brat now, and all he wanted to do was slap her. Mimi and Roger were in love, he knew that. But with Angel's death, she still couldn't see what was happening to them all, especially herself. Mark began to walk away, but looked over his shoulder at her one last time.

"I won't be coming back for you, Mimi," he said, sadly. "And I doubt anyone else will… it's up to you what you do now..."

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ Let me know if I should continue! How do you like it so far? In the next chapter, Maureen and Roger talk, and they all return to the loft where Collins is not there. He is found outside, asleep. Roger and Mimi are forced to confront each other. Mimi grows more ill, and Collins gets a visit from someone special…**


	6. Chapter 6

'**Til Death Do Us Part**

**Chapter 6: The funeral**

**SUMMARY:_ It has been three days since Mark confronted Mimi, and she spent those days alone. Now, it's the day of Angel's funeral, and there's a frightening confrontation between the bohemians. Mimi's growing increasingly ill, Collins receives a visit from a certain someone, and Maureen and Roger talk. Roger and Collins also have a moment together._**

**DISCLAIMER: The 'Goodbye, Love' scene is incorporated into this chapter, and so that scene does belong to the play and thus is conception and property of Jonathan Larson and his estate. And obviously, none of the characters are mine.**

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Roger and Maureen walked side-by-side down the busy New York City street, not saying a word. There wasn't much to be said, really. Roger had spent much of his time down by the Hudson River, just thinking and trying to escape the harshness of reality and the bitterness that was the pain he was feeling. And the guilt, of course. Similar to what Mimi was feeling, he knew that while Angel was breathing his final breaths of mortality, he had been caught up, selfishly, in his own world; his own troubles. A friend died, and he wasn't there for him. Roger wondered what kind of person; what kind of friend it made him. Either way, there's no way he could face Collins… not now…

Collins was the one suffering more than any of them, and he had to go through everything in the midst of a growing war between different members of the group. Maureen and Joanne were always bickering; he and Mimi were at each other's throats. But Maureen had found him and convinced him to escort her to Angel's funeral that day… don't ask how she did it, as it took much convincing. But Roger had finally relented and agreed to attend the funeral. He figured he owed Angel at least that much respect after everything his friend tried to do for him. He knew _she _would be there… that betraying whore… the woman who swept through his heart and then tore it out of his chest. Maureen had managed to keep him calm and he agreed to keep his cool and distance from Mimi, so at least that was something. But would the two really be able to co-exist, even for Angel's sake? For Collins' sake?

The crisp morning air brushed against his face and body, and he shivered and wrapped his arms around his body in attempts to preserve some heat. Still saying nothing to each other, Maureen and he walked down the steps to the subway. Through their entire time walking together, they hadn't said a word. Maureen, for one, didn't know what to say… she wasn't nearly as good or as understanding as Angel was, or even Mark and Collins. But she was more loyal than anything to them, so Roger had the comfort in knowing she wouldn't abandon him or betray him as Mimi did. Before they went to the funeral, though, they would be heading back to the loft to get Collins. Maureen had talked to Mark earlier and he said that he, Mimi, and Joanne were gonna head straight to the funeral service.  
After passing through the turnstiles, they stood on the subway platform, and Roger shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.

"Roger?" Maureen's voice was soft. She didn't want to provoke him. He didn't respond. "Roger?"

Worried, she placed her hand on his arm for comfort, and he looked at her.

"It's not your fault," she said.

"No…" he agreed, sadly. "But I could've done something about it."

"Like what?"

"How the hell should I fucking know!" he snapped, unintentionally. Maureen withdrew from him, taking some steps back. Roger's eyes softened and he reached out to her.

"Maureen, I'm sorry," he tried. "I just… I'm sorry…"

"Forget it," she shrugged it off. She knew he was stressed out, so she wasn't worried… all she was doing was making sure that he didn't snap or that things didn't turn dangerous. She and Roger had been friends for many years, and so she wasn't about to turn her back on him for anything. He stood by her and refused to hate her for what she did to Mark, when she left him for Joanne… he helped her when she needed him, so now she'd be there for him. A friendship with no strings attached. He sighed, nervously, and ran his fingers through his wavy blonde hair.

"I don't…" he stumbled to find the right words. "I don't know if I can do this…"

"Do what?"

"The funeral. Seeing _her_ again."

Maureen rolled her eyes. "Roger, it'll be fine—"

"I just –" he cut her off. "I just don't know if I'll be able to handle it, you know?"

She nodded, sympathetically. "I know. But you have to. Collins needs you, and you have to say goodbye to Angel otherwise you'll never move on."

Roger started to fidget and became restless, in obvious discomfort at what the day's events entailed. It was bad enough having to go to Angel's funeral, but for Mimi to be there, too? He understood that she and Angel were close, but to see her… to be in such close proximity to her… to even be in the same _vicinity_ of her… it was all just too much. The emotional baggage that they all were carrying was absolutely intense. Anger. Sadness. Confusion. Everything was rolled into one. The subway train pulled into the station and came to a stop. After a few dozen passengers got off, Roger and Maureen stepped on and looked around for empty seats. Roger nudged her when he spotted two empty spaces a few feet away, and they went to sit down. More silence between them.

"Roger, hun, you gotta let it go!" she finally said, casually taking her compact out of her back and started checking her complexion in the small mirror.

"What?"

"This thing with Mimi and Benny. For your sake."

"Maureen, don't start!" he said in a warningly tone. "Just don't!"

"Well it's pretty hard not to, considering all three of you are gonna be there!" she reasoned.

"Wait --" Roger interrupted. "Benny's gonna be there?"

"Unfortunately," Maureen confirmed. "I mean, who the fuck does he think he is? He didn't even like Angel, and Angel sure as hell didn't like him... or his fucking dog. But apparently he's up for paying for the damn thing, and he and Collins have been getting friendly _and _drunk together for the past few days. Ugh! Whatever! He's gonna ruin the one day we have left to say goodbye."

Roger shook his head, partly in disbelief and partly in disgust. Benjamin Coffin III really had some nerve in trying to get in with them again, especially at a time like this… and showing up to be in the same place as both Mimi and Roger when he knew things were extremely tense between them too. And then there was Collins. He didn't need all this shit to go down only days after his lover's death… not now. Roger sure as hell didn't want to be responsible for his friend suffering another emotional breakdown because of his friends' problems.

"The nerve of that bastard," he muttered, leaning his head against the side of the train. Now that Benny was gonna be there… no… fuck this… if he steps out of line by a fraction, Roger wouldn't hesitate to fuck him up.

Thirty minutes later, Roger opened the door to the loft and they walked inside. Looking around, both of them noticed that everything was quite. No sound of anyone.

"Collins? Honey?" Maureen cautiously stepped forward and made her way to the bedroom, figuring that maybe he was there… a few moments later, she returned and shook her head at Roger, indicating that he wasn't there. Where the hell was he?

"COLLINS?" Roger called, louder. Still no response. The two friends glanced at each other nervously. With Collins in such an emotional state, neither of them knew what he was capable of, and feared that he'd do something reckless if left unattended for too much longer.  
Satisfied with the certainty that he wasn't in the loft, Roger quickly turned on his heels and hurried out the door, with Maureen following close behind.

"Check up on the roof," he told her. "I'll check outside."

She nodded and turned away and jogged up the stairs, leaving Roger alone. The thing with Angel and Collins was that their love was probably the most pure example of true love out of any of them, gay or straight.

Roger walked outside the building and looked around. It was only about nine-thirty in the morning, and the funeral service wasn't due to start for another hour, so he was pretty sure Collins wouldn't be there just yet. Another thing he felt guilty about was not being concerned enough with Collins' welfare… out of all the crap that had been going down lately, Roger couldn't even pull himself out of his own misery to see the toll Angel's condition and eventual death had on one of his best friends.

He looked around at his environment, scanning for any signs of Collins or at least something that could point him in the direction of where he was. Not willing to give up on his friend, Roger began walking down one of the back streets of the building; his eyes firmly focused on his surroundings. It wasn't long before something caught his eyes in the distance and so he started walking closer, yet was cautious to whatever was there. Roger stopped and sighed, sadly, when he saw Collins sitting with his back against the building's wall, his legs drawn to his chest and his head resting on his knees. He was awake.

"Collins?"

The grieving man looked up and blinked to focus his eyes on whoever was saying his name. A lump developed in his throat when he saw Roger there… part of him wanted to strangle him, yet another part just wanted to hug him.

"Hey," he greeted, pushing himself up against the wall to gain his balance. "Hey, Rog… where've you been?"

"I guess I could ask you the same thing, man," was Roger's response and he casually and slowly walked over to him. Both hesitated for a few moments; not sure what to do… Roger and Collins had been through hell, and not once did they decide to travel through the darkness together… and maybe that's why it was hurting so much. Finally, Collins grabbed his arm and pulled his friend into a hug, in which Roger gladly returned.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry, man… I should've been there," tears came to his eyes.

"It's cool, man." Collins replied, smiling through his pain. Just having Roger there actually melted away any anger the older man might have felt towards him, and slightly eased the pain for him.

"Forget it…"

"I can't," Roger insisted. "I just… I should've been there, Collins. For Angel. For you. I fucked up, and I'm sorry."

Collins patted his shoulder. "I understand. I'm telling you, it's cool. You had your own things to deal with…"

"Collins, you can't say that!" Roger told him and the two headed towards the loft so they could meet up with Maureen. When Roger had run out of the room after seeing Angel dead on the bed, he dealt with it the only way he knew how to at that the time, and that was to run – Collins understood that. Both were past the stages of uncontrollable grief now – they were still destroyed over Angel's death, but at least they had more control over themselves now.

"Look," he sighed. "Let's just forget it, okay?"

Collins nodded, thinking the exact same thing… all he wanted to do was to forget the whole situation. Everything. Even to an extent, he wanted to forget Angel if that's what it took to just kill the pain. The two walked into the building to find Maureen and then they would proceed to the funeral… and with each step closer, it would become just that much more difficult – so to say that they needed each other at that moment, was an understatement.

**2 HOURS LATER – CEMETERY**

While Roger couldn't bring himself to look at her, for the most part all Mimi could do was just stared at him and silently willed him to look at her. But he wasn't about to let things get too bad. The funeral service had been beautiful… wonderful in remembering their lost friend, and saying their final goodbyes. Now, they were at the burial site where the full reality of the fact that Angel was really gone actually hit them all. Collins stood apart from the rest, and they respectfully gave him the space he needed – though Roger could see that the burden of the day's events were too much for any one man to handle by himself.

The priest had left several minutes earlier, and now it was just the seven of them were standing there, silently. Each of them were too scared to say a word; to disturb the peace… fearing that only one single word uttered would be enough to destroy the stability of the already dangerously fragile relationships. The bickering; the fighting… they were all keeping their tempers in check for the sake of Angel and Collins. Especially Collins. But what was there to be said? No one dared to say the first word, or to make the first move; take the first step both physically and emotionally… Roger's eyes passed over everyone and stopped at Benny. Oh God how he wanted to really beat the shit out of him… the nerve…

Benny knew that none of them wanted him there… and that was fine with him… but despite what they all thought, he wasn't a complete monster – he did have a heart, and he was devastated at Angel's death. And he still cared about them all, believe it or not, and he hated to see his friends – or _ex­_-friends – in so much pain. Finally unable to hold his emotions in, he burst out in tears… why all these hostilities were continuing after this tragedy; and how Angel's death failed to bring any of them closer together, he didn't know... but it was all too much. Everyone watched him, but didn't dare move, and then eyed each other to see who would be the first to reach out to their former friend. After a few moments, Maureen finally made her way to where he was standing and pulled Benny into her arms. He sobbed and just held onto her for dear life. Even he needed comfort, and no matter what, he'd still be accepted back into the group. After Benny had released his pain, it seemed to open a flood gate and none of them had dry eyes… except for maybe Collins. He wasn't looking at any of them, and was just staring at the casket in front of him… as soon as Angel's body was lowered into the ground, it would be finally over, this whole ordeal.

"I'm sorry…" Benny cried, his head on Maureen's shoulder. "I'm sorry, guys… I fucked up…"

"No kidding," Roger muttered, spitefully. He wasn't in the mood to do any forgiving or forgetting at the moment, especially with Benny. Not after what he and Mimi did to him. Maureen just shot him a very dark glare, silently telling him to keep his mouth shut.

"Roger…" she hissed. He stared at her for a few seconds, before turning away. There was nothing else he could do – he had sold his guitar and was now leaving New York to go to Santa Fe. Maybe there he could start over and forget Benny, Mimi, Angel, all of them. And maybe there the pain would finally go away, when he didn't have to look at them anymore. The sooner he got out of there the better, he was drowning in his own self-pity and depression that if he didn't get out, he might have found himself going in the same direction as his last girlfriend, April. Everyone, except Collins, was stunned as they watched Roger walk away from them all by literally turning his back on them. Mimi shook her head in disgust and began to follow him. **_Author's Note:_ This is where the 'Goodbye, Love' scene is gonna take place but I am going to dilute it a bit with dialogue, and only include half of it (where the entire group is involved), to keep within the parameters of the story… lines from the play/song will be done in italics**.

Mimi jogged to keep up with Roger, reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking him back.

"Mimi!" he growled, turning around and pulling his arm free. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"_It's true you stole a guitar and bought a car?_" she asked, accusing.

"_It's true, I'm leaving now for Santa Fe; It's true you're with this yuppie scum!_" he spat at her, viciously, and gestured to Benny as he and the rest of them (except Collins) approached where the drama was unfolded.

"_You said you'd never speak to him again!"_ Benny said to Mimi, confused as to why she was going after Roger after everything he put her through.

"_Not now,_" she hissed back, and then looked at Roger. "Roger…"

"_Who said that you have any say in who she says things to, at all?"_ Maureen directed at Benny. Even though she had been comforting him only minutes earlier, she still detested him and what he did to Mimi and Roger, and how he took advantage of the fragile relationship between them

"_Yeah!"_ Roger chimed in.

Joanne shook her head at Maureen. A huge fight was about to break out between the six of them, she could see it coming… but she also sympathized with Mimi, having not been able to get the commitment out of her lover, either. And worst of all, was that Maureen seemed to totally ditch Joanne at times for other women or men, and didn't think twice about it.

"_Who said that you should stick your nose in other people's—?"_

"_Who says I was talking to you?" _Maureen cut her off, now yelling. "Joanne, drop dead!"

Joanne stepped up to her so they were now face to face, and felt really much like hitting her… and things were so close to escalating into a violent situation.

"_We used to have this fight each night!" _she told the others, while maintaining her eye contact with her girlfriend.

"_Calm down!"_ Mark interjected, but Joanne raised her hand to hush him.

"_She'd never admit I existed!" _she continued.

"_Everyone, please!"_ Mark was trying to administer some sort of order – after all, they had just come from Angel's funeral, and Collins was only about twenty yards from them, hearing every word. Tears burned his eyes again, and he closed them and pressed his fingers to his temples, wanting so much for them to just stop. For everyone to just shut the fuck up and let him mourn his lover in peace. Mimi stood next to Joanne, and nodded, agreeing with what she was saying, and replied to her…

"_He was the same way! He was always 'run away', 'hit the road', 'don't commit,"_ she continued to glare menacingly at him. _"You're full of shit!"_ Mimi directed at him.

"_She's in denial…"_ Joanne told her.

_"He's in denial…"_ Mimi repeated her head and nodded, agreeing with every word Joanne was saying. Both young ladies were in the position where they didn't know if they had the strength, Mimi especially, to continue chasing relationships that just weren't happening. Both Maureen and Roger had very difficult times committing to relationships for two very different reasons.

"_Guys!"_ Mark was getting desperate now, but no one was paying attention to him. Benny, Maureen, and Roger stood to one side and were facing their respective lovers, in kind of a 'face off' or 'stare down' situation. Who would budge, or crack, first?

"_Didn't give an inch, when I gave a MILE!"_ Joanne was also almost screaming at her lover, the tension was on the edge of a sword now and could tip either way.

"_Come on!"_ Mark pleaded.

"_I gave a mile…"_ Mimi repeated after Joanne again.

"_Give a mile to who?"_ Roger asked her, with a mixture of sarcasm and viciousness that had rarely been drawn out of him by anyone except her… that's how deep his feelings had run for her… and still do.

"Who the fuck are you trying to kid, Marquez?"

"Screw you!"

"_Come on guys, chill!"_ Mark stepped between them. Mimi and Joanne didn't relent on their lover's though, and continued their verbal attacks on them. Both were sick and tired of being treated like crap by the people who claimed to love them and kept going back on their words. **A/N: I know the next part is sang fully by both Mimi and Joanne in the play, but for the sake of the story as it's supposed to be in dialogue for this, only Mimi will say the next part and Joanne will join in the last part**

"_I'd be happy to die for a taste of what Angel had!" _Mimi cried, knowing fully well that she wasn't getting through to him, and so she held onto Joanne's arm for support. All this stress was doing nothing for her help.

"_Someone to live for,—" _

Joanne knew what she was saying, and both said, _"Unafraid to say 'I love you'!"_

"Grow up, Mimi!"

"You never said the words I needed to here, Roger!" she screamed. "Never! You tell them," she gestured to the others, "That you love me! But you never told me! I'M the one that needed to hear it! Me! Not them!" tears streamed down her face and she began sobbing. "Me!"

Roger placed his backpack down and glanced quickly at Collins, seeing that he still wasn't paying any attention… well, that wasn't quite true. He was definitely paying attention to what was going on, he just wasn't responding to it. What point was there? He figured, but they were all stepping on his last nerve.

"_All your words are nice, Mimi!" _Roger yelled back at her, and both of them were oblivious to all else. This confrontation had been building for days, and now, like a volcano, the end resulted in an eruption of intense pain and suffering.

"_But love's not a three way street! You'll never share real love until you love yourself - I should know!"_

Finally, Collins had enough. Angel was dead and all of them seemed to be forgetting that. Why must everything be about them? He looked up, grief-stricken.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" he screamed, begging. Everyone stopped and turned to him, all with guilty looks on their faces, including Roger and Mimi. "PLEASE! All of you!"  
Willing himself to step away from Angel's gravesite, he approached them all, slowly.

"_You all said you'd be cool today,"_ his voice was softer. The emotion and pain could be felt on every word he spoke. _"So, please, for my sake…" _he turned back to stare at the casket. _"I can't believe he's gone…" _Collins then turned his head in Roger's direction and then his body followed, moving closer to him. _"I can't believe you're going,"_ he told him and then looked at everyone else.

"_I can't believe this family must die!"_

"Collins—" Benny started, but Collins silenced him by holding up his hand.

Mimi cast her eyes downward, realizing the full extent of the damaging they were all causing to Collins' soul, which had already taken a substantial beating. Collins placed his finger under her chin and raised her head so he could look in her sad brown eyes.

"_Angel helped us believe in love," _he continued to them all. _"I can't believe you disagree…"_

"_I can't believe this is goodbye…"_ Mark commented. Everything fell silent again, and they all looked at each other and knew that Collins' words were right. It was all over now, and there was nothing left to fix… it was too late. Collins turned and walked away, towards the funeral home; Mimi and Benny walked off together; Maureen and Joanne reconciled partially and went to talk things through… and left Mark and Roger alone. After an ensuing argument between the two friends, Mimi came by and finally said her goodbye to Roger, hoping to leave him on a peaceful note. It finally hit her that she wasn't going to get out of him what she wanted _or_ needed, and so the only logical, reasonable, and even healthy thing to do was to just leave. She had survived on her own for so long. Now, she would die on her own, too. Just being with any of them was getting too much… but things were getting desperate. Mimi's health was failing, and only a couple of days after the funeral, Roger finally made his move and left New York City… and who knows when he'd be back?

**ONE WEEK AFTER ANGEL'S FUNERAL – 2:49 AM**

Collins lay in the same bed that he and Angel had shared their last night in, and Angel had died in, just a week and a half earlier. Of course, he couldn't get to sleep and there was nothing that he could do at this hour to occupy his mind, so he just lay there… thinking. He was growing tired, but he didn't want to sleep, figuring if this was what his reality was, this nightmare… he didn't want to imagine what his subconscious had in store for him. The previous few nights all he dreamt about was the day; the moment that Angel died in his arms and that was all the occupied his mind during most of the day anything… his love for the vivacious drag queen ran so deep that now it was all that kept him going – the memories. But along with those memories came the pain of dealing with the reality that Angel was gone now, and the pain from that fact was so overbearing that it was almost like he couldn't breathe.

Tears, sweat, and grief were all mixed together and he could taste the bitterness in his mouth… the once sweet, lingering taste of Angel's kisses had now been replaced with the cold, bitter, unpleasant taste of reality. The cliché saying of 'the truth hurts' never applied to a situation more greatly, with more appropriateness, than it did in this situation… the truth was literally and painfully eating away at Collins' heart.

He turned onto his side and looked at the clock. 2:50 AM. Time itself also seemed to be against him and just dragging out the pain… he sighed and then turned onto his stomach, at least trying to find a comfortable position so he could settle down. To make things worse, he had no one else… except Mark and Benny. Those three were virtually inseparable now. Roger had left New York for Santa Fe, as he had claimed he was doing. Mimi was no where to be found. And Maureen and Joanne were slowly working out their problems too, and things were at least starting to look up for them.

"Angel…" his whispered Angel's name and blinked away the tears, and closed his eyes. "If only you could see what's happened…"

Collins was extremely sadden by the breakdown of the friendships that had lasted for so long, and through so much together… it took Angel's love and exuberance to actually make them see what they refused to for so long, and then it took Angel's death for them to let go of it again.

"You'd be surprised," a sudden, yet familiar voice snapped Collins out of his depressive state. His heart pounding, Collins' eyes opened and darted around the dark room. _No…_ he thought. _It can't be! No…_

"Honey," the voice said again, and instantly he recognized the voice. He sat straight up and what he saw in front of him left him stunned. Collins' breathing deepened and his whole body began to shake. His mind went totally blank and no words could describe what was happening… there, sitting on the bed before him, was his dead lover. Angel was just sitting there, in white garments, with his hands clasped in his lap and had a small smile on his face.

"Angel!"

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE:_ Please review. In the next chapter, Angel and Collins share a nice little reunion, and the chapter will join them all at the final scene of the play and then will carry on from there, as my interpretation and the story sees fit. **


	7. Peace

'**Til Death Do Us Part**

**Chapter 7: PEACE**

**SUMMARY:_ Collins believes he is dreaming when he sees his deceased lover sitting at the end of his bed.. The first part of this chapter takes place just after Angel's funeral, but the rest takes place after the final scene. This final chapter is solely focused on Collins and his dealing with the aftermath of Angel's death._**

__

FINAL CHAPTER

* * *

"Angel!" Collins' voice was shaky and his lip quivered; tears blurred his vision and the sight of the glowing person in front of him became slightly distorted until he finally wiped his eyes. No way… no… it couldn't be! He figured he was either dreaming, or just going completely insane and deluded from the grief, but there was no doubt of what Collins was seeing sitting in front of him – or should I say,_ who_?

Angel could see the confusion in his lover's eyes… now that he was in the eternal realm, he could see into people's souls a lot more clearly – and Collins was no different. So much pain, confusion, and anger were radiating out of his eyes… and Angel couldn't help but feel that he was partly responsible, even though he couldn't have controlled what happened. So much that had confused him before, now became clearer now that he didn't exist in the world where so many of his problems were created, and where so many of them were resolved. It was like, now, getting an outsider's perspective on the whole concept of life.

"You're okay…" he made the comment.

Collins had to wet his lips which had become dry from shock, and struggled to maintain his composure. He was leaving New York soon, and didn't know where he was heading. Roger had already left New York, and everyone else was wrapped up in their own problems… nothing was the same and their friendships, in his mind, could never be as they once were. A part of him actually blamed Angel for coming into their lives and having such an impact, that when he left them he took a part of them all with him… and left the rest of them so muddled up and hurt that they couldn't see anything beyond them own selves any longer. Angel could hear his ragged breathing; the heaviness that was Collins inhaling and exhaling the cold air around him… and Angel knew that he blamed him.

"W… wh… what?" Collins stammered, his voice was soft and breathy. So many emotions began to flood into his heart, giving him the feeling of drowning in his own soul. Curiosity now started to over take him, and slowly he began to reach out, not believing what he was seeing. _No,_ he thought._ Fuck this, he's dead! Man… I'm dreaming…_

"You're not dreaming," Angel stated, in a matter-of-fact kind of way. He didn't read Collins' mind, but the two had been so much in love – they could read each other's souls, even before he had passed away. He hated hurting Collins as much as he had, and for him there was nothing that was more painful than to see his boyfriend in pain. The thing with Collins, to Angel, was that he had been so understanding and accepting of the drag queen… very warm and open-hearted. Collins had let Angel be himself, and vice versa, and that's why their relationship was the strongest out of all of the relationships in their group. They didn't expect anything but love from each other, and that's what they got… they didn't need to hear to words from each other, because they already could read it in their eyes, in their touch, in their kisses, in their scent… unlike Roger and Mimi, Collins and Angel were absolute in their love, and committed to each other to the ends of the earth and existence itself.

"A… Angel?" Collins was still having trouble accepting the idea that his dead lover was sitting on the end of his bed. In two days, he would be leaving New York. Perhaps Angel was here to convince him to stay, if not for his sake… for their friends.

"W… what…?"

"What am I doing here?" Angel helped him out, guessing what Collins wanted to say. He stretched out his arms, casually.

"Honey, don't stress… I'm just here to see how you're doin',"

Collins outstretched his arm further, and his hand slowly tried to touch Angel's shoulder, and to his complete surprise, he felt his skin come in contact with Angel's. Collins jumped backwards, and quickly tried to put distance between himself and the 'ghost'. It had to be his mind fucking with him, he determined. As a college professor, all his logic and rationality was being put to the ultimate test now, and Angel sitting in front of him pretty much defied his, and all of society's understandings of life, death, and the paranormal. Therefore, he concluded, this had to be a dream. His own mind, which he had depended on to get him through life for years, had turned on him and was now fucking with him.

Angel couldn't help but be hurt at his lover's resistance to believing that he was actually in the room with him… Collins' skepticism did hurt. Because that meant he was resisting in his belief of life beyond death, and if that was the case… they wouldn't be reunited at the end of Collins' time on earth. Angel's eyes lowered and he blinked tears away. Yes, even angels could cry… they cried all the time when evil struck again on earth.

"You don't believe," he commented and idly traced his fingers over the stitching of the blanket.

"That hurts… stings…"

Collins' chest heaved and fell with each deep breath he took in… he needed more oxygen in his system so he could get his brain into 'full function' mode, in attempts to rationally explain what was happening.

"This is a fucking dream…" he breathed and pulled the blanket and sheets to his chest. "It can't be real… you're not real… you – you're dead!"

Angel chuckled, bitterly. "Yeah. I know. Believe me, darlin'. I know."

Collins choked up. Every part of his heart was telling him that this was real; that Angel was really sitting on his bed. Yet his mind, the logical, rational organ in his body, was telling him that this was physiologically impossible. Angel was dead and buried. Angel sighed.

"I should've known…" he spoke softly. "A college professor doesn't let his heart stand before his logic."

"Wh—what's happening?"

Angel turned to him and held his hand… Collins recoiled for a split second, before feeling the exact same tenderness and love that Angel had always given him. No… this was really happening.

"I told you… I came to see how you were doin'… not very good, I see…"

Collins shivered from a mixture of the cold and of the situation. Everything he knew about the world; his theories of death and actual reality; his philosophies of life after death; everything he learned from those great philosophers of the ages – Immanuel Kant, Aristotle, Plato… if this wasn't a dream; if this wasn't a hallucination brought about by the intensity of the grief he was going through… then what did this mean?

"I… I…" he couldn't seem to form single sentences, let alone verbalise what was going on inside him. Part of him was thrilled to see his Angel again, but another part was absolutely terrified. Angel shifted his position on the bed so he was comfortably facing the older man, and reached forward and touched Collins' leg.

"Shh," he soothed; his voice was smooth like silk and was music to his lover's ears. Collins never thought he'd hear or feel the comfort of Angel's beautiful voice ever again, so if this was the last time he would get to see him; talk to him… then he would take this opportunity to be with him one last time. The shock finally began to wear off and Collins finally relaxed himself to the point where things became infinitely clearer. Angel noticed this and moved even closer and opened his arms, silently imploring Collins to embrace him. It took no hesitation on Collins' part and he gently tugged on the silky white material of Angel's outfit and pulled the smaller guy into his arms and burst into tears.

"Oh, baby," Angel cooed, resting his head on Collins' chest and could feel each sob escaping Collins' heart and soul.

"It's okay… everything's working out! See? I'm home!"

Collins wiped his eyes. "Heaven?"

"No," Angel smiled. "With you. Not literally, of course. But now I can never leave you… not at home."

The two of them were wrapped in each other's arms. Neither were content with them now being worlds apart, literally, but somehow, knowing that Angel was safe in the after life, Collins was more comforted than ever before. It was everything to him to know Angel was no longer suffering, and was continuing to wait for him –forever, if necessary – and that not even death could tear their love apart. But somehow, no matter how comforted he was, it still was not enough.

"This is fucked up," Collins muttered under his breath, but Angel heard and he sat up to see his eyes.

"No kidding. I just… honey, you can't leave…"

The professor's eyes widened. "How do you—?"

"Tom, I just know, okay? They need you at the moment… Mimi needs you; Mark, Maureen, Joanne… hell, even Benny! They all need you… and Roger…"

"Roger's skipped town."

"I know. But he'll be back, just give him time… but you can't leave… look, I know you blame them for what happened… not being there for me or whatever." Angel planted a kiss on Collins' lips before continuing. "But they were there for me, Tom. And I was," he paused. "_AM_ so lucky to have had you all in my life, you know that… you gotta hold things together, and then everything will fall into place."

Collins shook his head. "It's too hard… why should I have to hold it all together, when we're all just falling apart? _You're_ the one who held us all together."

Angel smiled. "No. Love held everyone together. Death can make you question whether love exists, or if it's worth anything…"

Collins held Angel closer and kissed his forehead. It was true – all of them had been held together by something intangible; something more and bigger than them… things just weren't the same anymore, and he couldn't believe that Angel, his _dead_ Angel, was claiming that things could be the same.

"No…" Angel said, causing him to break out of his thoughts and jump in surprise. "I don't think things can… or are supposed to… remain the same." His smile vanished and he rubbed his lover's arms.

"Every day is different. Nothing remains the same… I just don't want to see my friends fall apart over this. Over things that are so tiny and worthless…"

"Trust and honesty are worthless?"

"No. I'm talking about pride. What's pride worth when you got nothing – or _no one_ – to be proud about?"

"Angel," Collins tried to reason, but then remembered that reason probably wasn't appropriate at the moment.

"I… I can't… Roger's gone… Mimi's missing… Joanne and Maureen are caught up in their own issues; Mark's so wrapped up in his film; Benny, he's – he's just Benny. We've gone our separate ways!"

"And you'll need each other more than ever soon, you'll see it. Remember? Today for you; tomorrow for me?" Angel stood up on the bed and smiled, closed his eyes, and spread his arms out like he had wings. He was glowing and radiated the aura of an actual angel that filled Collins' heart with a sense of purity and light. Angel opened his eyes and looked down at the man before him, hoping to convince him to do the right thing before everything slipped through his fingers and everyone fell apart forever. He dropped to his knees on the bed and leaned in and kissed Collins, passionately yet tenderly. After a few moments, he reluctantly pulled away and opened his eyes.

"I love you, honey," he whispered. "And I always will… I'll always wait for you! And we will be together again," he stood up and got off the bed. "As soon as your time here is done… and after all… it's what we do with our time given to us on this side of the grave that determines where we go on the other side. Your time; your destiny has yet to be written… and only you can determine what and how it'll be written, darlin'."

Collins bit his lip – it sounded like Angel was saying goodbye all over again. Not another one, he couldn't take another goodbye… not another one. Angel kissed him again and then stood back, also having to hold back the tears. He was sent here to deliver a message, though he couldn't let his lover be left without the answers he needed to here… but he had no choice in the matter.

"I love you," Angel reaffirmed and Collins got to his feet, and pulled Angel into another embrace.

"I love you too," he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Angel, you can't leave. Not again. Not fucking again!" they kissed and Angel, once again, had to pull away. Forcing himself to step away, Angel slowly began to fade away.

"No," Collins protested, and stepped forward with his arm outreached, but instead of being able to feel Angel's skin, his hand went straight through him, and he stumbled back in shock.

"Angel, don't—"

"Collins, make this right," Angel urged. "You know I love you and I'll wait forever for you… but now they need your help. Mimi needs you; she's dying! And she'll die before realizing the love she has… no one should die like that."

"Angel—"

"I love you. A thousand sweet kisses later, and I still love you as strongly as I did ten months ago. Goodbye, love…"

With those last lingering words, Angel disappeared for good, leaving Collins alone in the cold, dark room with no more sounds but those of the sobs that released only tiny amounts of the pain he was feeling.

**2 MONTHS LATER – DECEMBER 25th A/N: One day after the story in the actual play, ends, I am aware**

Mimi and Roger had realized their love for each other, and the group had come together again, including Benny… so what was wrong? Everyone wasn't exactly happy… but they were content that things had worked out. But with Collins, nothing seemed right anymore. Everyone had everything they wanted, or at least they thought they did – Maureen and Joanne; Roger and Mimi were all in love… Mark had finished his film… Benny had come to peace with them all and his conscience was clear… but what did Collins gain from all this? Nothing, at least that's what his thought. His lover, his best friend… Angel… was gone. No day but today. That's what they had all agreed on just the day before, a reaffirmation of their belief in love and friendship. And these past few months had tested Tom Collins' belief in love and friendship to its limits, and he still wasn't sure if it was real or not. Was the ten months he had with Angel real? Or just a dream? Did Angel really exist in anywhere except his heart; his mind? Was anything Angel said, real? Or were they just words of comfort to ease the pressure of the pain on Collins' heart?

He wandered through the cemetery at a pace that was slower than a snail's, though the world seemed to be spinning. All around him were the gravestones of the deceased from recent burials, and those that had come to pass more than a hundred years ago, all mingled within each other, reinforcing the notion that time really does not have a place within the spectrum of death. His fingers gently grazed an old tombstone that was so old, the name was still prominently clear but the dates of birth and death were now illegible… it, along with many of the other tombstones in the cemetery, were not kept up with the times. Time. How much of it would pass before Collins would feel life flowing through his heart again? How long before he could start to live again? How long until his existence, without Angel, had meaning? He didn't think his life had much meaning before or after Angel… but when he had him, it was very different… it was like God, Himself, had delivered a lightning bolt of passion and energy through him again. After all, Angel was like a lightning bolt – so energetic and powerful, and lit up everyone and everything that surrounded him… and the power that he passed along to anyone he touched, physically, spiritually, or emotionally… it was stunningly beautiful, in a slightly dark and even twisted way. But Angel was love. And just like lightning, he provided the light in the darkest of times and the most hopeless of situations… how could anyone go on without someone like that in their life?

After what seemed a lifetime, Collins came to stop just in front of one of the newest graves there… after two months, the disturbed soil had only just began to settle, and new grass began to grow over it. There was snow covering various parts of the grounds, and Angel's gravesite was no exception… the cool, wet air lifted the scent of nature and gave it a powerful boost.

"So…" he spoke to Angel, though not expecting another response. "What now? I did everything you told me… after I left, I couldn't stay away… and now, everything's perfect. Well, for them. So… what now?"

As creepy as it sounds, Collins found the cemetery a surprisingly peaceful place… it was so quite, and not really thinking about the decaying bodies rotting underground – to him, it was like each of the deceased were being returned to the earth from which they were, supposedly, created from. But it was peaceful, nonetheless. And while he wasn't expecting a response, he did feel Angel's spirit with him all the time… but again, that wasn't enough anymore. Some days he just wished that the disease would hurry up and ravage him to the point where he could just be reunited with his love. But other days, he was thankful to still be alive.

"It's such a fucking soap opera," he chuckled, bitterly. "Like Dynasty or whatever… everything bad happens to everyone, and we all deal with it in ways that could destroy us. That's some way to measure our lives, right?" he sighed and closed his eyes, sitting down in front of the grave.

"And you wanna know the worst thing about it, Angel? I don't care to move on. You told me to love again and be happy, but I… it doesn't matter anymore. Being happy? Or being right? Whatever… fuck it all, it doesn't matter. But…" he looked around, and still he was alone (physiologically).

"It's getting better, Ang. As sick as it sounds, I can't help but trying to count the days until I die; until I can hold and love you again… and I can't help but wonder with every cold I get, or every cough I have… if it'll be the beginning of the end. And I can't help but look forward to it."

He smiled. "The family died, and you resurrected it, Angel… and I dunno if I can ever move on from you; and to be honest, I don't care if I do or not. Whatever happens I don't think I'll be able to control it, but whatever… I guess I'll deal with it when it comes. Until then, I don't think I'll be coming back… I'll try not to."

It was painful for him to say those words, that he wouldn't come back to continue mourning his lover… maybe it was the first step to him moving on or not… probably not… but he just couldn't do it anymore.

Choking back tears, he crept forward and lightly touched the tombstone. "I love you, Angel. And…" he paused to quickly let out a sob, but then regained his composure. It was so hard for him to do this, but all of this wasn't healthy for him anymore.

"The thing is… I just don't wanna do this anymore. I love you so much, and to see all this love around me and not be able to have you with me, I just… I can't do it. I love you. And I'm sorry…"

He stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets and felt the cool breeze brush across the back of his neck, sending chills running down his spine.

"Hey," came a voice from behind, startling him. Collins turned around and saw Roger standing there.

"Roger, hey," Collins greeted him and hugged the other man. Roger returned the hug.

"How you doin', man?" the musician asked, genuinely concerned with Collins' wellbeing. So much had been left unsaid between them both and it was all only just resurfacing after everything. It had been a year since they had all met Angel; since Angel had swept into their lives and gave back to them everything they had started to let go of. Now, two months after his death, they were back to where things were. Collins shrugged.

"Had better days," was his truthful reply.

"I get it," Roger sympathized. "I'm sorry…"

"Forget it," Collins dismissed his friend's apology. "You got nothing to be sorry for, Roger. All of it's happened… nothing can change that…"

"Angel really fucked up our lives," Roger chuckled and patted Collins' shoulder, reassuringly.

"No kidding. He was my whole world."

"You should've seen it," Roger started to reminisce. "From the outside… Angel adored you, Tom. Everything about you."

"I don't know why," his friend confessed. "I always wondered what he saw in a guy like me."

Roger paused. "Love," he reasoned. "Angel saw love in you. I see it, man. I see what he saw… love, warmth, beauty… everything that makes a man a good person, he saw in you."

"Oh yeah?" Collins scoffed and the two started walking down the pathway towards the exit of the cemetery.

"How you know that?"

Roger shrugged and flicked strands of his long blonde hair from his face and shivered in the cold.

"I just do, man… you shouldn't have suffered the way you have…"

"Angel was gonna die either way," Collins snapped, unintentionally, and he quickly softened his tone of voice. "And I was gonna suffer no matter when he died…"

"Yeah, well, we didn't exactly make the mourning period easier for you. Wish there was some way I could change it all…"

"Forget it, Roger," Collins said again and held the gate open and he walked through it, followed by Roger.

"It's over with. Done. I'll never get over Angel, but I sure as hell am not gonna cry myself to death. Not now. If I did, it'd make all these past few months pointless. I'm fine, man. I'll get through it."

Roger and Collins parted ways at the main road, as the musician would be returning to the loft to take care of Mimi who really wasn't feeling well, and Collins would be heading towards New York University where he was up for a new job. There was no doubt in any of their minds that they would never get through mourning Angel's passing… and there were no guarantees for Collins that as the years would go by that the pain of the memories would lesson as they lingered in his heart.

For ten or so months, Tom Collins and Angel Schunard had been the envied couple out of all of them… they shared more love in less than a year than most couples, homosexual or heterosexual, would share in ten life times. Maybe that's because they both knew that they were on borrowed time and that early death was a certainty in both their lives that would rip them, physically, apart from each other.

The thing was, despite everything, Collins had cried all he could, yelled and screamed until his throat was dry, and still nothing could express the hurt, the regret he felt about how he handled everything. Of course there was the guilt of still being blessed with life, while the younger Angel, at 22, had to give up his life to the disease that was killing so many in the late 1980's.

As he walked slowly down the street, as the snow began to fall, and the memories of him and Angel dancing in the subway car, and kissing in the snow, and just being together, flooded through his mind – everything suddenly began to make sense. Angel's death. Mark's film. Benny's remorse. Mimi's illness. Roger's pride. Joanne's frustration. Maureen's theatrics. It was all apart of their own world together… it made sense to know one but them, because they were the ones living the lives of bohemians. Living with little materialistic goods, but also encompassing everything that was good about Man and the world… sharing the love, the friendship, the family… that was their world. Angel had brought them together again. And love held them together.  
Collins smiled and turned the corner, and the cemetery disappeared from view…

"Thanks, Angel…"

* * *

**THE END!**

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE:_ The end. Finished. Let me know what you think by reviewing. Thanks!**


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